


We Will Make Some Day Together

by lovingwhatido



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 3x07 fix, Alive Lexa, Canon Divergence, Clexa, F/F, Fix-It, Lexa Lives, Post 3x07, clarke and lexa - Freeform, no tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-05-30 17:33:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 69,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6433774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovingwhatido/pseuds/lovingwhatido
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Lexa are trying to make peace together by breaking down old Grounder traditions and beliefs. Blood must not have blood. Love is strength. New discoveries will be made. Clexa ruling together as the power couple that they are.</p><p> </p><p>This is also posted on fanfic.net. Same title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Failed Attempt

Lexa looks out over her balcony, enjoying the warm setting sun on her tear-damp face as her mind drifts back to Clarke. Her heart soars when she recalls the way that Clarke gently grabbed the back of her neck to kiss her so tenderly. It was a moment that she thought she would never get again. She had hoped, she had hoped so much. So, when she felt those soft lips against hers, she couldn’t stop the tear that slipped out. Under any other circumstance, she would not have let a single emotion slip through her Heda façade. Especially a tear. That’s weakness. That’s vulnerability. But, with Clarke, she doesn’t need to put on any façade around her. She can just be Lexa. That’s why she loves her.

Clarke was right about something. ‘ _Life is about more than just surviving_.’ The girl’s presence in her life has made her want to do more than just survive; there can be love, peace, happiness and hope for a long future. Her heart sinks as she is reminded that Clarke’s presence won’t be a daily privilege anymore. After they forced themselves to get dressed, Clarke returned to her room to gather her things to head back to Arkadia. As much as she wishes Clarke had chosen to stay her as her guest, she has to go back to her people in hopes to overthrow Pike. Just as Lexa would have done herself, like Mount Weather. Head over heart. Maybe one day they can choose heart over head when they owe nothing more to their people. Hopefully, this attempt at peace and ‘jus nou drien jus daun.’ will bring that day sooner. No more betrayals. No more heart aches. No more war. Just them, Clarke and Lexa, leading a peaceful world together.

A booming gun shot in the room next to her snaps her out of her thoughts, without a second thought she sprints out of her room towards Clarke’s. Her blood is already hammering in her ears as panic and fear consume her mind. Another gun shot. Her vision begins to blur making her stumble slightly but she doesn’t let herself fall. _Please be okay, Clark_ e. She scrambles to grab the door handle and yank the giant door open. Another shot is fired once the door swings open. A blood curdling scream escapes Clarke’s lips as she collapses to the floor.

“Clarke!” Lexa cries, falling to her knees beside her and presses her hands down over the bullet wound just below her right collarbone.

“Guards!” She roars at the top of her lungs, over her shoulder but not taking her eyes away from the pain ridden face below her. The blonde’s eyes are squeezed shut with tears seeping through the corners. “What have you done?” Lexa hisses through her teeth, glaring up at Titus.

“I was just trying to keep you safe, Heda,” Titus answers gravely, holding the gun loosely at his side but keeps an emotionless face. When he warned Lexa about these feelings putting both of them in danger she never imagined him taking it into his own hands.

Tears prickle in Lexa’s eyes as Clarke moans in agony below her, “It’s going to be okay, Clarke. I will save you.”

The loud thumping of boots signals the guards arrival, “Arrest him,” she growls and nods towards Titus, standing only a couple feet away from her.

“Heda,” he pleads as two guards grab his arms and snatch the gun away from him.

“Throw him in a cage for now. This will be dealt with later,” Lexa demands as she presses harder down on Clarke’s wound to try to slow the bleeding. Her hands are already coated in blood; Clarke is losing a lot of it. A lingering guard begins to follow Titus being dragged out of the room, “Wait! Untie him,” she tilts her head at Murphy, “Then send for a healer, they need to be here now!”

“Lexa,” Clarke stammers through labored breaths

“Just breathe, Clarke,” Lexa whispers, trying to keep her lips from quivering with worry. “The healer will be here soon, you’ll be okay.” The blue eyes staring up at her are glossed over with tears.

“Clarke,” Murphy says in a soft, concerned voice as he crouches down next to her and gently rubs her arm to provide her some comfort through her pain. “We should probably get her to the bed, it’ll probably be easier for the healer,” he suggests and glances up at Lexa.

Lexa nods slowly, “Okay, we got to be careful. I don’t want to cause her anymore pain.”

“Just do it and get it over with,” Clarke groans, the muscles in her neck strain as she braces herself for the additional pain.

Lexa breathes out heavily through her nose then flickers her eyes up to Murphy, “Get that side of her, I’m going to try to keep as much pressure on this as possible. She’s already losing a lot of blood.”

A loud whimper escapes the blonde’s lips as they gradually lift her up together causing Lexa’s heart to twist painfully, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Hurried footsteps echo down the hall; that needs to be the healer. Murphy and Lexa gently lower Clarke onto the fur covered bed. Both of Lexa’s hands instantly resume their previous position over the wound, that has gotten even more soaked with crimson blood during the move.

“Do your people know how t-to t-treat gunshot wounds,” Clarke stutters slightly through choppy breaths.

“They will be able to,” Lexa reassuringly stares at the worried blue eyes below her, trying to hold back her own emotions from spilling over. A slightly older woman with greying auburn hair bursts through the doors with medical supplies in her hand. Her chocolate eyes immediately fall onto Lexa’s blood covered hands and hurries to her side as she yanks out thick bandages.

Lexa recoils her hands when the healer reaches for Clarke, giving the healer all the space she needed as long as she fixes her. The woman hovers over her and probes the wound with small metal tools to assess the damage, enticing a small cry from Clarke. Luckily, the bullet appears easily accessible due to the gunshot wound being more superficial than most.

“Come on, Princess, it’s going to be okay. Hang in there,” Murphy whispers encouragingly at her side. There are soft snippet noises as the healer cuts open the upper right side of Clarke’s shirt then deliberately cuts off the entire right sleeve, so she is able to remove the shirt later.

 _Princess? Is that something they call Clarke?_ Lexa thinks to herself as she rounds the bed to grab Clarke’s hand when more cries and whimpers escape her quivering lips. “Laik yu able kom sis em au?” Lexa inquires with fear and a hint of desperation wrapping her voice. A vulnerability she very rarely allows to slip through in front of someone other than Clarke.

“Sha, heda,” the healer’s eyes remain focused on the hole in the Skygirl when she gives the Commander a small nod.

The bones in Lexa’s hand crunch together as Clarke unleashes a death grip on her hand when the woman probes directly on the bullet. Cool metal tools scrape under the small bullet that is lodged directly under the collarbone. Finally, some of the whimpers begin to subside once the bullet seems to be entirely removed.

“Murphy,” Clarke unexpectedly croaks out, opening her reddened eyes in his direction, “Octavia and I were supposed to leave for Arkadia right about now…” Her sentence is cut off with a hiss of pain when the healer applies dressing to her injury. Within a couple of seconds, she composes herself just enough, “Can you find her and tell her what happened and that I will be there as soon as I can.”

Lexa shakes her head at Clarke’s response, “Clarke, you are going to be in no condition to be traveling that far, especially when you will have to move that fast.” The still watery-blue eyes shift down to her, they are slowly circling with guilt of failing her people again.

“I think the Commander is right,” Murphy glances at Lexa briefly then back to Clarke, “Octavia will understand. You can just go back when you are in condition to travel.”

Clarke shakes her head sadly, “It’s not as simple as-,” a sudden whine escapes the blonde’s lips and she squashes Lexa’s hand again when the needle starts threading through her open skin.

“There has been a kill order placed on Skaikru since the recent events. It’s the best I could do for your people but you must be behind the blockade by dawn otherwise you will be killed,” Lexa finishes for Clarke, when she is unable to compose her anguish to finish her thoughts.

“What’s been happening? I haven’t been there in nearly four months!” Murphy questions with his eyebrows knitting together.

“Octavia will explain that to you,” Clarke strains out, “Just get to her, you need to get behind that blockade.”

Murphy nods slowly as he processes the information, “What about you?”

“She will stay here with me,” Lexa interjects and keeps her eyes fixed on Clarke’s face, “I will make sure she heals properly and is safe until the kill order can be removed from your people.”

Murphy takes another glimpse at their interlocked hands, having put together all the pieces since Clarke was shot. “Tell my mom and Octavia that I’m sorry,” Clarke’s voice cracks with culpability, her bottom lip shaking and several tears fall from the corners of her eyes.

“I will, stay strong, Princess,” Murphy gives her a small one-side smile as he stands up a little straighter.

“May we meet again,” the blonde whispers out through labored breaths.

With that, Murphy walks hastily out of the room to get to Octavia before she leaves. The healer is nearly done closing up the gaping wound when Lexa shifts closer to Clarke and clasps her hand between both of hers. “How’s the pain?”

“Pretty bad,” Clarke sniffles quietly but then a tiny amused smile tugs at the corner of her lips, “even worse when I got attacked by a panther.” The brunette quirks an eyebrow at her in question while the healer begins to wrap her stitched up wound to make a make-shift sling for Clarke. Some of the ache in Lexa’s heart starts to dissipate when she realizes that Clarke is going to be okay, she will be in pain but at least she will be alive. Alive and safe with her in Polis. _Safe_. Clarke just got shot here, with Lexa close by. She needs to do a better job at that. _How could Titus do this to Clarke? To her?_

“When did you get attacked by a panther?” Lexa asks, needing to divert her brain from going in an endless cycle of fury and guilt.

“During those three months that I was out wandering by myself,” the corners of Clarke’s mouth turn down subtly at the tender memories. “But, I won,” she adds at the end, smiling slightly at the green eyes staring at her.

Lexa can’t help but smirk proudly at her as the healer begins to pack up her medical supplies into the bag on the floor. “Mochof,” Clarke thanks her with a small appreciative smile.

“You are welcome, Wanheda,” the woman bows her head respectfully at both of them before retreating out of the room and the heavy doors shut behind her. Leaving Clarke and Lexa alone in the room.

Remembering her hands are still covered in now dried blood, Lexa releases Clarke’s hand to grab the bowl of water that the healer left behind. She spills the cold water over her hands then wipes them off with the extra strips of cloth on the table. The silence allows Lexa’s mind to wander and begin to wrap in guilt again. If it weren’t for her carelessness, this would not have happened. She doesn’t care if loving Clarke is unsafe for herself because now she is _living_ and not just _surviving_. _But, is this love going to make it unsafe for Clarke?_

Lexa sucks in a heavy breath through then takes a seat on the bed, she uses a wet cloth to wipe off the dried blood on each of the blonde’s hands. “We are going to need to change the furs on this bed since they have blood on them now.”

“I can live with it for a night,” Clarke grimaces when she attempts to shrug, momentarily forgetting that she will have limited use of her arm. “Or I can just sleep on that big chair, it’s big enough for me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Clarke,” Lexa shakes her head, not meeting those blue eyes, “you will need to have a comfortable sleep in a bed and I will be sleeping on that chair because I am not going to leave you alone tonight.”

Though the Commander’s tone is relatively even, Clarke can hear the subtle shake to it. The wobble she can always hear when Lexa believes she has to bury her emotions away. With her left hand, she stills Lexa’s hand, that was cleaning up blood that had dripped down her body, then laces their fingers together.  
Misty emerald eyes flicker up to her face, “I’m sorry,” she whispers, “If I had known that Titus would attempt to harm you, I would’ve done more to keep you safe.” She holds herself back from adding _what if I hadn’t come in that second or what if Titus had shot her in a more fatal spot_. She has to since she knows she would not be able to suppress the tears from gushing down her face by talking about those heart-wrenching possibilities.

“You have already done so much to protect me and to keep me safe, probably more than I deserved,” Clarke speaks firmly as she holds Lexa’s eyes, finally showing her full appreciation for everything the woman has done since she arrived in Polis. “But, you need to let me protect you too. If I had known how much your safety was at risk because of me, I would’ve left.”

Lexa shakes her head; her heart would’ve broken if Clarke had left Polis because she felt that she needed to protect her. “Titus is just a firm believer that love is weakness and that to be commander means to be alone.”

“I thought that was your philosophy?” Clarke raises her eyebrows in surprise. When Lexa stays silent and her eyes drop down to their laced hands, Clarke pieces it together. “Did Titus teach you that? Because of Costia?”

“Yes,” Lexa answers in barely a whisper, “I didn’t believe it for the longest time. Even after her death. But, when you hear it so much when you’re in pain, you start to believe anything that could make the pain go away.” A few tears leak from her eyes and she brushes them away with her free hand.

Clarke gives her hand a comforting squeeze, wishing she had the strength to lift herself up and brush the tears away herself. “And what do you believe now?”  
Those shimmering green eyes stare thoughtfully at her for several moments, “That love is strength. At least my love for you is. It gives me strength to do things that I have been too scared to do before.” She blushes slightly at her admission, even though she is sure Clarke knows that she loves her.

A wide grin spreads across Clarke’s lips as she watches Lexa turn a light shade of black with her confession but then sighs, “Ai hod yu in seintaim, Leksa.”

The words catch her by surprise, she didn’t expect to hear them back anytime soon or at all. She was positive that her feelings for Clarke were much stronger; since the spewing hate and rage after the Mountain. As they the words start to sink in, her lips stretch into a beaming smile then she leans down to place a tender kiss on the Clarke’s lips. Clarke unlaces their fingers to reach up and cup the side of Lexa’s face to continue the kiss slowly. After a couple of seconds, Lexa pulls her lips away but lets her forehead rest against Clarke’s damp forehead. There is something slightly comforting about feeling Clarke’s breath on her face, a treasure that could have been so easily ripped away from her tonight. “I’m going to tell the guards that you need some new furs in here then I’m going to grab something to sleep in, I’ll be right back,” Lexa says then slips off the bed to head towards the door.

Once the door clicks shut and there are soft orders spoken in Trigedasleng outside, Clarke forces herself to sit up but winces when her right arm accidentally moves too quickly and a sharp pain shoots through her. Thankfully, she is left-handed but only having the use of one arm is still detrimental. Before getting off the bed, she unbuckles her boots and kicks them off to the side. Both boots making a small thud when they hit the ground. She shuffles over to the small wardrobe, where she keeps the few clothes that she has. None of the clothes are going to be particularly easy to get on, especially the nightgown that she has been wearing to bed since she has arrived here. One of her undershirts and comfiest pairs of pants would have to do for tonight. Her free hand grips the bottom of the fabric of her shirt to try to pull it up her torso but fumbles when it gets caught on the sling.

There is a soft creak when Lexa pushes back through the doors in her black nightgown with the slight up to her hip. She meets Clarke’s frustrated eyes when notices that she is struggling to get dressed by herself. The blonde drops her hands in defeat when the other girl appears in front of her with a tiny sympathetic smile and those affectionate emerald eyes. Lexa is careful when she moves the cut fabric over the injury, then Clarke lifts her left arm to allow the shirt to be pulled over her head. The ruined shirt is thrown aside and Lexa is handed the undershirt that needs to be put on. “Tomorrow we will find you some clothes that will be easier to put on,” Lexa notes while she slips the top over Clarke’s head, letting the right strap dangle loosely at her side.

Clarke nods with a low, “Okay.”

Lexa notices a pair of pants that are laid out as well, “Do you want those on instead?”

“Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind. I just want to be out of these clothes and those will be more comfortable to sleep in,” she looks down at the ground, feeling incredibly weak that she is unable to dress herself.

The Commander’s hands undo the button and zipper of the girl’s pants then pushes them down until Clarke is able to kick them aside near the discarded shirt. “Hold onto me while I do this,” Lexa instructs kindly when a pair of soft black pants is handed to her. Clarke grasps onto Lexa’s shoulder with her left hand while the waistband is held open to allow her to step in each pant leg at a time.

“There,” Lexa remarks as she finishes buttoning her pants then giving Clarke a slight smile.

“Thank you,” bashful blue eyes finally look up from the ground then she tilts her head forward to plant a thankful kiss on Lexa’s cheek. Such an innocent kiss leaves a burning sensation on her cheek and her stomach erupting in butterflies. An abrupt knock on the door breaks the sweet moment that they were falling into, Clarke sighs, “Come in.”

Two handmaids walk in with new beige colored furs in their hands. Clarke takes a couple of steps away from the Commander, unsure if this would be deemed as inappropriate by others. And not wanting to take that risk after tonight. The handmaids remake the bed in less than a minute before silently withdrawing out of the room. “Are you tired, Clarke?” Lexa asks as she follows her towards the bed.

“I’m tired but the pain might not let me sleep that well tonight,” Clarke exhales heavily when she lifts up a layer of the fresh furs then slips between them.

“Well, I will be right here if you need anything,” Lexa reminds her and goes to settle in the large chair near the bed but a hand grabs her wrist.

“Don’t be ridiculous, if you are really going to stay here with me, you can sleep in the bed. I’m not going to force you to sleep on a chair,” the sky girl rolls her eyes, in disbelief that Lexa honestly thought that she had to sleep on a chair after they had sex earlier.

A shy smile and blush spreads over the brunette’s cheeks, “I didn’t want to push your boundaries, I didn’t know if that would be too much for you.” She walks to the opposite of side of the bed and climbs in between the layers, the fresh furs feeling incredibly soft as they brush against her exposed skin.  
Clarke has to stop herself from instinctively rolling on her side to face the other girl, opting to lie on her back. “What will be said if it gets out that you are spending the night with me?”

The furs ruffle as Lexa adjusts to get comfortable on her right side, “It’s not of their business. I am their Commander, they are not to question my decisions,” she states in a stern voice and Clarke lolls her head to the side to see intensity filling the deep green pools staring at her. Lexa takes a moment to swallow hard, “I will not fail you, like I did Costia. No more harm will come to you,” her serious voice shaking faintly with the fresh guilt and lingering pain.

“What will come of Titus?” Clarke questions hesitantly, assuming that Lexa must feel betrayed as she did when Gustus betrayed her a couple months back. All to protect her from Clarke and the Sky People. Her heart aching with responsibility for the sacrifices Lexa has committed on her behalf. _Maybe she does need that protection from her_.

“We will see of that tomorrow. You need rest, Clarke,” Lexa states lovingly, but the blonde just groans in response.

  
“I will try my best to rest,” knowing that the ache and discomfort in her shoulder and chest is going to make it awfully difficult to get a restful sleep. “Reshop, Heda,” Clarke whispers sarcastically.

A playful smirk pulls at the corner of Lexa’s lips then this time, she rolls her eyes and lifts her head to softly peck Clarke’s lips, “Goodnight, Clarke.”  
As predicted, it is a long time before Clarke is able to fall asleep, there is a constant throbbing in her upper chest and shoulder. Sleeping on her back has never been the most comfortable position for, she longs to curl up on her side or flip onto her stomach. There are soft murmurs coming from the girl next to her, she watches her carefully, preparing for Lexa to wake herself up from a nightmare. Instead, the sleeping girl slides an arm over Clarke’s stomach and inches closer to her until her incoherent murmurs turn into even breaths. Clarke smiles, feeling almost as peaceful as Lexa looks. The arm hung loosely over her stomach and the steady breathing against


	2. Recovery and Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa spend time together while Clarke recovers from her gun shot wound. They begin discussing how to handle Titus's punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Glad to get this up on a Thursday to fill some of the Clexa void! My girlfriend has been my lovely beta reader, but if anyone else would like to be a beta reader, leave a comment or message. Would love to have more :)

The following morning, the persistent throbbing around her collarbone finally forces Clarke awake. Her exhausted eyes ache when they clash with the beaming sun that seeps through the tiny crack in the curtains. She slept much better than she thought she would, the pain still urged her awake every couple of hours, but Lexa would wake with her to soothe her back to sleep. Maybe that’s why she can’t fall back asleep now, the bed is cold and empty next to her. She faintly remembers Lexa’s soft voice in her ear this morning, whispering something that she was too sleepy to retain. Followed by gentle lips pressing to her forehead. After that, her sleep was restless since the ache gradually turned into a hard constant throbbing.

She digs her left elbow into the furs to push herself up until she can swing her legs over to drop her feet on the floor. The bandages wrapped around her chest feel coarse and are rubbing against the wound uncomfortably. She needs to send for a healer again soon since she can’t change these bandages herself, hopefully they can give her more herbs to soothe the pain as well. The dark room lights up when she draws the curtains open, her eyes admire the dark green trees stretching out miles away Polis. Even after a month of being in Polis, the captivating view of the land never gets old. Clarke dreamt nearly her whole life on the Ark about what Earth would be like, the sheer beauty of it has exceeded her expectations by far. _The Ark_ , her heart plummets into her stomach. She failed them, _again. Is she going to be seen as a traitor?_ Simply thinking the word makes her stomach churn vilely.

There is a quiet knock at the door, prompting her to avert her eyes away from the window as the door slowly opens. “Good morning, Clarke,” the Commander, in full uniform, strolls towards her and sets down a plate full of food in the sitting area near the window. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Clarke rasps out, watching as Lexa takes the last couple of steps to stand with her at the window, “I should get some herbs for the pain and I’ll probably need these bandages changed soon."

The Commander’s rapidly blinking eyes drop to the floor, giving the blonde a single nod before returning her eyes back up find blood-shot eyes. “I thought that might be the case. I told the healer that she should stop by in about an hour. I didn’t know if you would be awake but I wanted to be sure that you ate before she came.”

Her appetite is nearly non-existent due to the mere thoughts of being considered a traitor and the stabbing pain enveloping the right side of her body. However, as a healer, she realizes the importance of eating regain strength to heal properly. “Yeah, I probably should eat. Thank you.”

“Any word on the blockade this morning?” The blonde inquires, slouching in the chair closest to the window. Slices of dark bread, grapes and berries are cluttered on the plate in front of her. The food in Polis has been significantly better than anything that she has eaten on the ground in the past months.

“I got word that Octavia and Murphy made it inside safely, it seems Indra accompanied them there.” Lexa unbuckles her chest piece, removes her heavy coat and drops them on one of the empty chairs. She settles in the chair directly across from the younger girl, observing the guilt welling into the reddened eyes and the slight downturn at the corners of her lips.

Clarke nods silently in acknowledgement, “Hopefully Murphy is able to convince them that I’m not a traitor and that I didn’t mean to let them down again.”

“None of this is your fault, Clarke,” Lexa says sincerely, before her voice hardens. “This is my fault. My carelessness. Your people will see it as such.”

“Titus tried to kill me because he believes all this is my fault,” The words wrap like a ball in Clarke’s throat. _Her fault. Again._ “My people. Your people. He thought if he killed me and blamed it on Murphy that you would be angry enough to finally declare war on my people.”

Lexa’s jaw clenches tightly, her upper lip snarling at the statement, “he said that?”

“Would that have been true?” Clarke challenges her in an unspiteful way. Not that she could blame the Commander for wanting to declare war in the first place, her people slaughtered the Grounders in an unjust manner. However, with Titus’s words, she has grown curious if it was truly her presence that influenced Lexa not to declare war and enforce their new ways of ‘ _blood must not have blood’_.

The Commander leans back heavily in the chair, sucking in a deep breath through her flared nostrils in thought. An image of Clarke’s lifeless body sprawled on the ground, blood pooling everywhere causes Lexa’s chest to almost cave in from agony. She visualizes spotting the gun in Murphy’s hand, her blunt finger nails dig into the fabric of the chair and her blood boils through her skin. It would have been Costia all over again. Except this time, she would not have recovered from the devastation of losing Clarke. She would have wanted to destroy everyone in Arkadia out of pure fury and spite. As she had wanted to wipe out the Ice Nation after receiving Costia’s head. Those wars and deaths would occur because of her _feelings_. She can’t do that; she knows how to separate those feelings from duty. “No, I would have wanted to,” she utters through clenched teeth then relaxes her jaw, “But, I wouldn’t have. I would be declaring a war based on feelings. As Commander, I couldn’t do that, to lead I have always had to separate feelings from duty.”

Mount Weather hangs silently in the air; Clarke can practically hear Lexa whispering it in her mind. If this were a month ago, she probably would’ve chuckled in Lexa’s face and spit the words back at her, claiming that there were no feelings at all. She would stand there to those emerald eyes wince at her words, while the Commander swallowed hard until her emotionless mask rebuilt. Now, it’s different. “I know,” Clarke understands.

“Eat, Clarke,” Lexa tilts her head at the plate on the small round table in between them.

Clarke rolls her eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but she flips a side smirk at the brunette as she grabs the plate and holds it in her lap. She nibbles on a slice of bread and plops two grapes into her mouth, easing her sensitive stomach into eating.

“After the healer comes, I thought that we could either go down to the markets to find you some new clothes or we can have one of the handmaids go down and bring some stuff back for you. I didn’t know if you would feel up to it.” Lexa suggests, having craved to roam the streets of Polis with Clarke for a long time now. It has been a daydream of hers since before Mount Weather. _Polis will change the way you think about us._

“It might be nice to get out for a bit. If some of the pain dies down at least. But, does something need to be done about Titus?”

“It does,” Lexa states honestly, her head coming back to the reality of their obligations. “I just thought you might need a day to recover and rest. That will also give you some time to decide how you want to proceed.”

Considering his relationship with Lexa, Clarke needs to think about the consequences carefully. She has been an indirect cause of the Commander losing her mentors, Anya and Gustus, and now Titus. “What does this mean for you? He is your Fleimkepa.”

A single thump on the door draws their attention away, “That will be dealt with once his fate is decided.” Lexa shoves herself up from the chair to fold her hands in front of her and stiffen her posture, “Min op.”

 

* * *

 

After the healer leaves, Lexa assists Clarke with getting dressed to head down to the markets. The blonde has insisted that the herbs and new bandages have decreased the pain significantly. Lexa gave up on any form of protesting, already knowing the stubborn girl wouldn’t listen.

“What will your people think when they see that I am still here? Won’t it upset them?” Clarke probes while Lexa finishes buttoning the blonde’s jacket.

She gestures for Clarke to sit on the edge of the bed as she grabs the sling on the table. “They will see that you remain here as the Commander’s guest. Therefore, you are under my protection and crossing you means they are crossing me,” she looks Clarke firmly in the eyes as she speaks and ties the sling around her neck. “You are also still seen as the great Wanheda; they respect you as such.”

Hearing Wanheda pass through Lexa’s lips, instinctively causes Clarke to flinch inside. Lexa never refers to Clarke with that title outside a formal setting, but she wanted to remind her that her people will permanently respect her as the legendary Wanheda. Being Wanheda paints her as much more than a Sky Person to the people of Polis, she will forever be seen as a hero for defeating their greatest enemy. The sentence leaves them in a lingering silence as Clarke stares at her lap and Lexa takes the opportunity to get fully back in her Commander uniform.

“Ready?” The Commander asks once she finishes fastening the last buckle on her jacket.

Clarke answers Lexa by sliding off the bed and plodding towards the door. Although Lexa has assured her that the people of Polis will continue to respect her, it nags her that it won’t entirely be true. _Will she ever actually belong here either? Where is home for her?_

“Miya,” The Commander orders to two of the guards stationed between their rooms, she motions swiftly with her hand for them to follow. They turn left down the next hallway to enter the small worn-down lift with manual doors. In the lift, Lexa notices the blonde’s eyebrows knit together and her eyes engrossed at the floor as they descend in the tower. “Clarke,” she says softly and waits until the ocean blue eyes meet hers. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired,” Clarke lies weakly, not intending to discuss her worries and anxieties anywhere that could be considered public. Though, it isn’t a complete lie; she remains worn-out from last night. Yet, leaves out the part of subtle throbbing and the constant doubts.

Lexa’s eyes roam over Clarke’s face, catching the way she swallows hard and her eyes flicker away from Lexa as she speaks. “Is this too much for you, Clarke? Are you still in too much pain?”

Clarke restrains herself from placing a reassuring hand on the other girl’s arm, “I’m fine, the herbs have helped the pain a lot. I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

As much as she hated hearing Clarke groan in her sleep in pain, she loved to be allowed to comfort her through it. When the lift reaches the bottom of the tower, with a small bump, the guards drag open the lift doors to allow the two powerful women to step through them. The Commander clasps her hands behind her back and squares her shoulders as they enter the bustling streets of the markets. Citizens respectfully dip their heads and step aside for the Commander. A few citizens eye Clarke suspiciously with sly sneers and hushed whispers about the Sky People. Some mutter questions of why Wanheda is still here and what it means. Clarke tries her best to ignore those whispers when she passes them; instead of letting it shrink her into the crowd, she straightens her back and holds her head up high.

“There is a place up here on the right that you might like,” the Commander signals up ahead then glances at Clarke beside her.

Clarke turns her head to flash a half-flirty smile in Lexa’s direction, “I’ll take your word for it, Commander.”

That smile with the small twitch of Clarke’s right eyebrow makes Lexa’s stomach flutter, it’s a smile that she has been growing accustomed to over the past several weeks. One that she hadn’t witnessed before their time together in Polis, a smile that she hopes is only reserved for her.

“Here.” Lexa points to a medium sized tent with the flaps tied open on each side to show off the hanging clothes inside.

The two guards silently take positions right outside the tent entrance while the two women walk through the open flaps. Four people are browsing the selection of clothes in the tent, most of the clothes are hanging on lines around the tent and the others are folded neatly on wooden tables throughout the shop. A forest green jacket, with black lining, on the left hand side of the store catches Clarke’s attention and Lexa immediately follows her.

Clarke goes to unbuckle the straps on her jacket, only to have it serve as a reminder that trying it on will require her to remove the sling. Her face must have fallen vividly because Lexa quietly says, “It’s okay, we can get anything you like and we can deal with any alterations back in the tower.”

“Heda!” A middle aged woman, presumably the store owner, rushes towards them with her head lowered. “Ai biyo moba. Ha na sis au yu?”

“Klark gaf in moe oukou,” the Commander motions to Clarke’s sling and holds up the selected jacket.

The dark-haired woman goggles at Clarke with narrow hazel eyes, appearing mildly surprised that she remains in Polis. Unlike some others on the street, there are no sneers or expressions of disgust. “Sha, Heda. Ai don mo”

“Is that the mighty Wanheda?” A familiar female voice questions. 

Clarke turns away from Lexa and the store owner to see Niylah walking cautiously towards her. “Niylah! What are you doing here?” A genuine grin spreads across the blonde’s lips, glad to be seeing a friendly face.

“Thought it would be nice to get away from the post for a bit, it has been quite boring without you coming around every night,” Niylah studies at the gash above Clarke’s eyebrow then her eyes fall to the sling across her chest. “Did you get in a fight with another panther?”

Clarke laughs lightly and shakes her head, “I think I would rather it have been a panther.”

Niylah sighs with concern, stepping forward to trace the gash on her forehead with her fingertips, “Are you okay though? If it was worse than getting attacked by a panther, that’s pretty bad.”

When Clarke senses the finger tips right above her eyebrow, she is reminded that Emerson attacked her only a couple of days ago. The throbbing in her shoulder and chest beat faster when she reflects on everything that she brought upon herself. “Some pain. But, I think I’ll be okay.”

The woman peeps over Clarke’s shoulder, “It seems like the Commander is quite fond of you,” raising her eyebrows at her. “I assumed that when they found you that would be the end.”

When Roan found her, she also thought it would be the end for her. Not that she minded so much then. “Thank you, Niylah. For everything, I mean it,” she holds Niylah’s eyes intensely to communicate her amount of sincere gratitude, “I don’t think I would’ve survived all those months if I hadn’t found you.”

Niylah smiles sweetly at her, dismissing the compliment with a wave of her hand, “You are the mighty Wanheda, you took down a panther with a small dagger. You would have been just fine without me, believe me.”

During those three months and especially the final night, Clarke did not treat Niylah with the respect and appreciation she deserved. Niylah didn’t have to protect or help her, but she did over and over again. Although, it was mostly meaningless, she felt ashamed for leaving Niylah after they slept together. That’s not how she deserved to be repaid. “I’m sorry for leaving you that night.”

“You hardly have to apologize for being captured. Especially since you were brought here to be protected by our Commander,” she bows her head when she notices the Commander approaching from behind.

The Commander’s eyes assess Niylah with a stern face before turning her attention to the blonde next to her, “Clothes will be delivered to your room this afternoon, Clarke.”

“I should be going,” Niylah states awkwardly, “it was lovely seeing you again, Wanheda.” She gives Clarke a subtle flirty smirk with glittering eyes. Then, bends her head again at the Commander, “Heda.”

The Commander’s stare lingers as Niylah moves to a table of folded pants in the middle of the shop. Questions about that woman plague her mind, primarily out of curiosity about those three months of solitude but also about the extent of her relationship with Clarke. She swallows them away for now, those questions can’t be asked in public. That is private between them. “How are you feeling, Clarke?”

Clarke opens her mouth to claim that she is fine because she would enjoy to continue exploring the markets. But, she knows that lying to Lexa is useless by now. “I think I’m done. I’m still tired and don’t have all my strength back.”

“Let’s get you back to your room. Your new clothes will be there shortly, I requested new sleepwear also. I hope that’s okay.” She quietly adds at the end.

The two women stride side by side through the streets with the guards trailing behind them. A group of young kids points at the Commander with wide eyes, it is rare to spot the Commander strolling through the markets. She acknowledges the group of admiring kids with a friendly nod as they travel past them.

“Do you have a lot of meetings to attend to today?” Clarke breaks the quiet moment between them.

“No, I might need to check in on the status of the blockade at some point,” the Commander shakes her head slightly, keeping her head high and her eyes focused in front of them. “I made sure to keep my day clear to help you with what you need.”

Clarke drops her chin to look at Lexa meaningfully through the top of her eyes, “You didn’t need to do that, you know that.”

“Yes, I did and I wanted to,” she whispers at the end, permitting her eyes to shift to Clarke’s face when they board the lift and the guards close the doors behind them.

_I wanted to_. This is the first time that Clarke has heard Lexa say that she wanted something for herself; not as the Commander or for her people, but for her. Once the lift halts to a stop at the top of the tower, the guards push open the doors to allow them to exit into the halls. They head straight to Clarke’s room and the guards stay perched outside when the closes thud shut behind them. Clarke plops down in the large chair, immediately curling her legs under herself.

To get more comfortable, Lexa unsnaps her hefty commander coat and hangs it on the back of a chair. Questions about that woman have hung in her mind since the encounter in the tent. She desperately wants to know the answers, but is hesitant because she is unsure if she has the _right_ to ask.

Lexa quietly takes a deep encouraging breath, “You and that woman in the market seemed to know each other…well. You met her during…?” Any words regarding Mount Weather and those three months of solitude stay trapped in Lexa’s mouth, worrying that it would trigger additional blame that Clarke is feeling today.

“Niylah, yes. She was the only one during that time that I had any actual communication with. She worked at a Trade Post and would always allow me to trade supplies and kills even though she knew who I was.”

“The trade post where Roan found you.”

Clarke continues, “She lied to try to protect me because she thought it was the Ice Nation after me.”

The woman possesses strong instincts if she believed she protected Clarke from the Ice Nation, everyone in her lands is aware of their brutality. At least there was someone else out there trying to protect her and not attempting to kill her. From the interaction in the tent, it was clear as day that Niylah cared for Clarke. While speaking with the shop owner, she surveyed Niylah and Clarke out of the corner of her eye out of curiosity and protectiveness.  When the woman traced the healing gash above Clarke’s eyebrow, her skin prickled with a little jealousy and her blood ran cold. It raised her suspicions that there was something more between them at some point. She overheard Clarke apologizing, ‘ _I’m sorry for leaving you that night.’_ In her heart, she knew what that meant. She nervously chews on the inside of her lip until the words slip out. “But, you two were...intimate?”

Despite Lexa’s fixated stare on the table of candles in between them, the green pools are wide and glazed over with vulnerability.  Clarke keeps her eyes focused on Lexa’s tightened face as she inhales deeply. “Yes, well only once. She helped me after I got attacked by that panther. She cleaned my wounds then it just kind of happened. I woke up in the middle of the night because of another nightmare then left her in bed. When I left that’s when Roan found me.”

If Lexa witnessed the interaction or learned about the intimacy any earlier than today, she is positive her heart would have smash into a million pieces. Since they had sex yesterday and Clarke told her that she loved her, there is only a small ping to the heart. She finally lifts her eyes back up to meet patient blue eyes, “Well I am glad that you had someone there during those months to help you when you needed and hopefully made it less lonely.”

“It helped some, not as much as you might think,” Clarke mumbles and fidgets with the cloth of her sling. _Lonely._ It’s something she feels all too much still, except when she’s with Lexa. That’s the only time she doesn’t feel truly alone in this world.

“What are the options for Titus?” The blonde inquires, fighting the exhaustion creeping into her eyes.

The Commander shoves herself up from the chair, forcing herself to think with her head and not her heart. “He attempted to kill you, that grants you the right to execute him but...”

“Blood must not have blood.” Clarke finishes the objection for her. Executing Titus was never an option in her mind in order to support Lexa’s new philosophy and because of his relationship to Lexa. _How do the Grounders choose their Fleimkepas? Reincarnation? Election?_

The muscles in her stiff shoulders loosen when a wave of relief rushes through her. She knew in the back of her mind that Clarke would choose not to execute him, there was not underlying rage and blame as there was with Emerson. “There is the option of banishment, as we chose for Emerson.”

_Banishment._ That still leaves the Commander without a Fleimkepa; while Clarke disbelieves that Titus is trustworthy and is unsupportive of Lexa’s vision, _could she really put Lexa in that position_. “Titus is your Fleimkepa, he has been your teacher and mentor. Who would replace him? I can’t just take that away from you.”

“He tried to take you from me!” Lexa growls, her heart replacing her head in that moment. She stops to tilt her chin up to swallow her emotions back down. “I will consult with the Commanders’ spirits with how to select a new Fleimkepa. This can’t go unpunished; he needs to see consequences for his actions. I would not trust him to not try anything again, I can’t take that risk. Not when it’s your life at stake.” Her only mentor left has betrayed her. The thought of him continuing to walk these lands after his attempt on Clarke’s life twists her stomach into a knot, she must keep Clarke safe. She swore to Clarke on her knees, she promised Clarke’s mother on the night of the summit that Clarke would be safe here under her protection.

“And it won’t go unpunished,” Clarke states, less firmly than intended, her voice weakening as her eyes struggle to stay open, “I just want to put some thought into given the circumstances.”

“I think you know my stance, Clarke. But, as I said, this decision is up to you,” Lexa grips the back of the chair that she was sitting in before. When there is no response, she looks up to see Clarke’s head leaning against the back of the chair with her eyes shut. The left corner of her lip flips up into a tiny smile at the sight of the sleeping girl. She walks a few steps to bend over, hooking an arm under the girl’s knees and the other around the back of her shoulders, then slowly lifts her up into her arms. Lexa lowers her until her head falls lightly against the furs on the bed then she unhooks her arm from the back of her knees. Her hands trail down her calves to unbuckle Clarke’s boots to remove them one at a time.

The solidarity of Lexa’s bedroom has consistently been the best place for her to draw into the Commanders’ spirits. For now, Clarke’s room will be the best option; otherwise fears about Clarke will distract her mind. Lexa sits cross legged on the floor, leaning her back up against the wall and closes her eyes to clear her mind. Contacting the Commanders’ spirits can be challenging when she’s not sleeping. In her sleep she can see the previous Commanders, but when she’s mediating she only hears their voices.

_“Jus drein jus daun,”_ a deep voice finally echoes in her head. “ _That has been the way of our people. Titus was trying to remind you of such, I have told you do not forget our ways.”_

On the inside, Lexa rolls her eyes, that’s all she’s been hearing for over a week now since she spared Skaikru. “ _I am trying to change our ways, Kiar. I will not hear this again.”_

He scoffs at her; she can practically hear him shaking his head at her in annoyance. “ _How do I choose another Fleimkepa?”_ She asks when he says nothing further.

“ _Titus has been the Fleimkepa for many years now. Four commanders. When a Fleimkepa is no longer, the Commander selects someone worthy based on knowledge of tradition and trust that they will protect you and the flame.”_ The calm collected voice of Dia advises.

_“Titus was a trusted Flamekeeper!”_ Kiar shouts in her head _._

_“He tried to kill his Heda, he is not trusted! Jus drein jus daun should apply to him!”_ Leon interjects abruptly.

“ _Execution is not an option,”_ Lexa bellows at Kiar and Leon.

“ _Because the Sky Girl said so?”_ Kiar sneers, never hiding his distaste for Clarke

Her hands bawl in her mind, “ _Because I said so! Jus souda nou don jus! Dia, what if Titus is the only one who has the proper knowledge of tradition?”_

Three consecutive knocks echo through the room, breaking Lexa’s deep meditation. She can hear Clarke starting to stir in her sleep when she pushes herself off the floor to answer the door. A young handmaid with coal black hair is holding a basket of clothing when the door opens.

“Heda,” the girl dips her head respectfully. “Gon Wanheda.”

The Commander lifts the packed basket out of her hands, “Wanheda is resting right now. She will send for any necessary alterations to the clothing.”

“Sha, Heda,” the girl keeps her head bowed, pivoting on her heels and exiting back down the hall

Lexa turns around to see Clarke rubbing her eyes awake as she sits up in bed. “Sorry if that woke you, your clothing was being dropped off for you.”

“It’s fine, I think I got the rest I needed for now,” the blonde croaks out, tossing her legs over the side of the bed and lets them dangle as Lexa approaches her with a full basket in her hands. “Can you take me to see Titus?”

After placing the basket on the floor near the bed, Lexa’s body tenses with Clarke’s request. “Right now?” Her eyes collide with rested blue eyes.

“Before I make a decision, I want to ask him what he was doing with Murphy and why he was in that condition,” the memory of a bloody and bruised Murphy form in her mind. She has been too distracted with her own injury to have questioned the reason for Murphy being in Polis in the first place. _Was this her fault too? Was he hurt because of her?_

“Titus should have the answer for you, as I do not. I can bring you to Titus if you wish,” Lexa obliges, the knot in her stomach already tightening at the thought of Titus being near Clarke again.  

“I want the answer now, so we can move forward with necessary steps.” Clarke demands impatiently, the internal anger tingling at her bones. _She can’t be at fault for Murphy too._

“I will put my coat on then I will take you to Titus’s cage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Min op: Enter  
> Miya: Follow  
> Ai biyo moba. Ha na sis au yu: I am sorry. How can I help you?  
> Klark gaf in moe oukou: Clarke needs more clothes(jackets)  
> Sha, Heda. Ai don mo: Yes, Commander. I have more.  
> Gon Wanheda: For Wanheda
> 
> Again, if I messed up on any of the translations, let me know! I did the best I could with them, I'm sure they aren't perfect though.


	3. Polaris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke makes a decision for Titus's fate. In the process, Clarke and Lexa find interesting news.

Down in the low levels of the tower, three guards are positioned in front of the entrance to the short-term prison. Two of the prison guards tug open the pair of heavy wooden doors as the Commander and Clarke approach.  Inside, the room is lined with five cages on each side, only the first two are occupied with Polis citizens. The two male occupants are huddled in the corner of their respective cages, dressed in rags that cling to their boney bodies.  Their eyes widening and foreheads wrinkling at the presence of their Commander. The prison reminds Clarke of her confinement on the Ark, the memory of isolation and probable death traps the air in her lungs. Her cell on the Ark was considerably cleaner and more comfortable than the dark dingy cells here. Musty, dim and a lone stone slab in the corner to rest on. In the last cell on the right, Titus is sitting on the slab with his head hanging and his hands folded in his lap. He springs up from his position when he notices the Commander and Clarke stopping at the front of his cage.

“Heda!” Titus trudges over and grips on the steel bars of the cage. His fingers dark with dirt from the filthy cell and beads of sweat cling to the top of his head.

The Commander holds her hand up, “Clarke has questions for. You are to answer all of them. It is the least you can do. Understood?”

He barely manages a nod before his head drops in defeat and lips curve downwards. “Again, I am sorry, Clarke. I truly am.”

“Save it,” Clarke growls, barring her teeth at him. “I want to know what you were doing with my friend. I know he didn’t just happen to stumble into Polis to steal from the markets. I want the truth.”

The bald man releases the bars, swallows visibly and keeps his eyes downcast at the floor, “He was found not too far outside of Polis. He and an accomplice were stealing from travelers in the area. Coalition troops eventually captured him and brought him here because they found this.” He pauses to dig the chip out of his robe and holds it through the bar slats for Clarke and Lexa to examine.

“You held him prisoner and beat him over that?” The sour tone scrunches Clarke’s nose and her eyes narrow at plastic piece. _Over a plastic piece with a tiny infinity symbol?_

“It has the sacred symbol of the Commander,” Lexa clarifies softly, her eyebrows raised in wonder and confusion over the small item between Titus’s fingers.

“Yes! That is why I had to hold him captive!” His voice strengthening with confidence. “I needed to know where he got this and what he knew!” He shakes the piece of plastic between his fingers, stressing the importance of his objective.

_It still isn’t a good enough reason to leave Murphy bloody and bruised_. “My friend was nearly beaten half to death!” Ice blue eyes cut through the man, the words hissing through her teeth as she takes a step closer to the cage. “Did you really have to do that? Did he even know anything?”

“It had to be done, Clarke. I am sorry,” he lifts his chin up, not letting Wanheda intimidate him. “Any potential information is critical for the Commander and our goal.”

_Our goal._ Lexa’s stomach clenches and knots as the ball of fiery anger flares up with his statement. The moment he fought against her peaceful vision, they no longer shared the same goal.   

“Answer the question, Titus,” Lexa barks. “Did he know anything?” Muscles on the sides of her neck bulges out as the impatient anger rushes up her body. 

“I did not get much useful information, Lexa,” he subconsciously bows his head in a silent apology. “He told me that a man named Jaha introduced him to a woman in a red dress named Allie from the City of Light. He was held there in a room for over ninety days until he was able to escape. He has held onto this since escaping.”

“I’m sorry, but what does this have to do with the Commander?” Clarke sneers in annoyance.

Lexa fights the urge to reach out and soothe the anger and confusion from coursing through Clarke’s veins. “We are working towards understanding the City of Light. It is believed that the Commander holds the key to do so.”

“What is the City of Light?” During her three months of exile, she thought she heard of every significant location in the area and every clan. Never once had she heard about the City of Light.

“We have been working to find more about it. That is why I held your friend, Clarke. We needed answers and he had the sacred symbol,” he points to the infinity symbol on the chip.

“You tortured my friend and you didn’t get answers. I hope you are happy about that.” She hisses bitterly, her blood thumping irritably against her neck.

Clarke spins on her heels to storm down the hall. “Your friend had a theory about the first Commander and Polaris.”

Her ears perk up at Polaris, she snaps her head back toward him. _How could Titus know about Polaris?_

Once he regains Clarke’s attention, he continues in a skeptical tone. “He believes the first Commander came from Polaris.”

“That’s impossible,” she shakes her head at the absurdity of the suggestion. “Polaris was blown up ninety-seven years ago,” she stomps back towards the cage.

“He believes evidence here in Polis says otherwise.” His stern lips are turned down into a subtle frown and his eyebrows scrunched together

“Evidence?” Her mouth dwindling open in shock and disbelief. _How is there any evidence of Polaris?_

“In the sacred room, I can escort you if-“

“Absolutely not!” The Commander snaps, her spit of rage vibrates off the steel bars causing Titus to flinch back.  She turns to the blonde, softening her voice, “Clarke if you wish to go, I will take myself.”

“Please,” Clarke nods at Lexa, her hard blue eyes shift back to the locked up man. “Did you force anything else out of my friend?”

“That’s all I managed.”

“Well I hope it was worth it,” Clarke pivots back on her heels to stalk out of the prison. Leaving Lexa alone with Titus.

“Lexa,” he pleads. “I’m- “

“I don’t want to hear it,” she hisses. “I made it clear to you that I am more than capable of separating feelings from duty. Instead, you defy me and attempt to kill Clarke.” A revived resentment heaves in her chest and flows up through her neck. She holds her tone low enough so the two other prisoners do not hear of the accusations against Titus.

“I was trying- “her hand shoots up in the air to silence him. _To protect you._

“Your fate will be decided soon. It is up to Clarke to decide.” His entire face falls and his shoulders slump with weakness. “If it were up to me, you would have been banished immediately. You are lucky that Clarke leads with her head and her heart.”

With that, her coat swooshes behind her as she strides down past the cages. Outside, Clarke is pacing with her eyebrows scrunched together and her eyes shifting wildly in deep thought.

“Clarke,” Lexa says to grab her attention.

The voice halts her over-driven mind briefly, her eyes focus and shoot up to the Commander standing there. “Can you take me to that room, Titus was talking about, now?” _What evidence could Titus be talking about? What had Murphy seen?_

“Yes,” Lexa answers too quickly. Her mind screaming at her to ensure Clarke rests, but her instincts tell her that Clarke won’t relax until she sees the sacred room.

Three guards follow the women through the winding corridors and down two flights of stairs. Lexa’s mind is bubbling with questions of Polaris and Clarke’s apparent connection to it. They push open a side door of the tower to cross over an ally to a wooden door hidden on the side of a building. The Commander gives a short nod at the guards to stay perched outside.

The sacred room remains permanently dark with only a few beams of light slipping through narrow windows and several lit candles scattered through the room. Clarke spins slowly, surveying all the spiritual drawings covering the walls until her eyes fall upon a recognizable pod. Her determine feet move almost as quickly as her mind is spiraling. _Could it really be?_

Her fingers trace over the distressed lettering, dated debris coats over the A and the R making it hard to read. She vigorously rubs the filth off until the lettering is more visible.  “Polaris,” she whispers.

Lexa observes her intently, “What is Polaris, Clarke?”

“The thirteenth station from The Ark,” Clarke answers, her eyes peering inside the murky window. “They refused to join the Ark and it was blown up on the day the world ended. Ninety-seven years ago. This is an escape pod.”

The Commander stares at her with widened eyes and her mouth agape. Until now, this unidentified contraption was mostly a mystery. It is how the name Polis was established, her eyes wander over the lettering that Clarke was obsessively tracing. Now, she can clearly read the entire name on the side _Polaris, not Polis._

_Could the Sky Boy be right?_ Her eyes shoot to the middle of the adjacent wall to the two large illustrations. She grabs a torch, marches up to the wall and holds the light up to it.

A minute later, Clarke rips her focus eyes away from the ancient escape pod. The shocking revelation that Polaris was actual here in Polis distracted her from noticing that Lexa was intensely studying the wall.

“Lexa, what is it?” Clarke asks, following her up to the wall and the path of her vision.

“These drawings,” the Commander points to the sets of long white markings on the wall. “This is supposed to be the first Commander descending to earth.”

“From the sky?” The first drawing is from floor to ceiling, depicting a woman with a mushroom cloud above her. The illustrated woman appears to be suspended in air, as if she was floating towards the earth.

The Commander gives her a single nod. “Ninety-seven years ago. On the day of the bombs.”

Clarke’s jaw drops, “Murphy was right?”  It comes out as a question rather than a statement since Clarke is struck with disbelief with that he was actually right about Polaris being here. And the fact that his theory is seemingly correct.

“There has always been a legend of where the first Commander came from,” Lexa breathes in heavily through her nose as her eyes scan over the drawings. “It makes sense. How much more do you know about Polaris?”

“Not much more than what I’ve already told you. It was a big controversy that they didn’t speak much about, especially to kids. My mom, Kane and Jaha will know the details. Particularly Jaha, he knows our history better than anyone.”

Lexa nods. “Once the blockade is lifted, I wish to speak to them and anyone else who might know valuable information.”

“Of course. What would this mean though? If Murphy’s theory is right?” Clarke questions, even though she already knows the answer- she needs it to be said out loud.

“It would mean that the first Commander was a Sky Person,” the Commander’s answer sounds strange and almost foreign in her own head. _This common ground could help bring peace between the Sky People and the Coalition._ “If this holds true, it could bring many changes to our people. It may make it easier for the twelve clans to accept Skaikru as the thirteenth clan.”

“I hope so,” Clarke whispers, hoping that her people remove Pike and accept the Coalition this time. Her blood runs ice cold at the memory of Bellamy’s betrayal. Blaming her. Hand cuffing her to a chair. Attempting to hold her prisoner. His loyalty to Pike. “Tell me more about these drawings and these legends.”

“That could take days, but I would love to teach you.” Lexa can’t suppress the wide smile breaking across her face. Just thinking of teaching Clarke about their legends and beliefs makes Lexa’s heart swell up in her chest.

The infinity symbol or the sacred symbol of the Commander is scattered in places across the walls “Let’s start with this sacred symbol. I’m assuming that relates back to the reincarnation belief you told me about?”

“Yes,” Lexa faces Clarke after putting the torch back in the holster. “That symbolizes the Commander’s eternal spirt that is passed down on the night of the conclave.”

“That symbol…it was on that chip that Murphy had. Why?” Her forehead winkles and her eyebrows frown in confusion. “What is this City of Light he was talking about?”

“It has been a long-term goal of the Commanders to understand the City of Light.” The Commander takes a short pause to form the proper wording. “It isn’t a place, per say. It’s a state of mind, so it seems. We don’t know much other than that.”

_Not a place? A state of mind? Is it a drug?_ Clarke thinks about Titus in his cage, his fingers gripping that chip tightly and speaking of their goal. A goal that he and Lexa were working towards together. “Will banishing Titus affect this goal that you have been working towards?”

“No,” Lexa shakes her head. “I know everything he knows. You do not need to factor that into your decision. I will discuss it with the next Fleimkepa.”

“Have you figured out how to choose another Fleimkepa?” The blonde probes sympathetically, the extra guilt of taking Titus away from Lexa is weighing down on her shoulders.

“Yes, I consulted with the past Commanders while you rested earlier. It is up to me to decide who will be trusted enough to protect me and the flame.”

Clarke glances away, fighting the skepticism of creeping into her face. “Have you selected someone?”

“Not yet,” Lexa works her jaw from side to side. “I want to make a wise decision. I must find someone who shares the same vision as me; blood must not have blood. And peace.”

“If you need me to wait on- “

“No,” the Commander interrupts gently, not wanting Clarke to accommodate for her. “If you have come to a decision, then we will proceed immediately.”

“I have come to a decision.”

* * *

 

Two hours later, the throne room is filled with murmurs and questions about Wanheda amongst the clan ambassadors and political personnel. Similar to the markets earlier, there are suspicious eyes and sneers casted directly at Clarke. By the throne, Clarke stands on the Commander’s right side while the Nightbloods are gathered on her left.

The room quiets when the doors swing open to reveal Titus in shackles being escorted by two heavily armed guards. All eyes are on the bald man as he shuffles to the middle of the room directly in front of throne.

The Commander rises from her throne, her eyes scowling into her chained-up mentor. She clears throat quietly, “Tonight, we are gathered to sentence Titus, Fleimkepa, for acts of treason and attempted assassination.”

In that moment, all eyes fly up to Clarke making her body tense, her stomach twist and the throbbing in her chest to intensify. Presumably, the sling across her chest and her presence give them all the pieces of the puzzle.

“Last night,” the Commander’s eyes move around the room as she recalls the incidents. “Titus stole a Skaikru weapon from John Murphy. He used this gun to attempt to assassinate Wanheda while she was in the process of leaving Polis to return to Arkadia. However, his attempt was unsuccessful. These acts provide Wanheda with the power to decide his punishment.” She turns to Clarke. “What say you, Wanheda? Will Titus be met with the fate of death, banishment or go unpunished?”

“Banishment,” Wanheda announces loudly and resolutely, for everyone to hear. She watches Titus’s eyes close and his lips purse at the punishment.

An old ambassador flies up from his seat and points at Clarke, “Why does she have the power to decide? There is a kill order on Skaikru. Why is this man being punished for upholding the kill order?” The crowd mutters words of agreement and bob their heads in support of the ambassador.

The muscles in the Commander’s jaw tense at the backlash from the crowd. Instead of allowing her emotions slip into her Heda façade. She retorts sternly, “This attempt came before the kill order went into effect at dawn. Consequently, it is justly punishable.”

“If Wanheda remains affiliated with Skaikru, what is stopping us from killing her right now? She is not behind the blockade!” Another ambassador jumps to his feet and shouts, browsing at the other ambassadors for support.

The threat surges through Lexa’s spine and she has to resist bawling her hands into tight fists. “Wanheda is under the Commander’s protection! Titus’s unjust attempt on Wanheda’s life eliminated her chance to get behind the blockade. Any attempt on her life will be met with consequences as you will be defying your Commander!”

Vibrations from the Commander’s fury ridden voice echo throughout the throne room, silencing all the protestors. Inside Lexa feels herself shaking, but nothing scratches the surface of her bones as she glares across the room.

The piercing green eyes land back on Titus, she strides towards him. “The item you showed me earlier, where is it?”

“In my pocket, Heda,” he tilts his head to his left side.

She slides her hand into the deep pocket of his robes to pinch the little piece of plastic. She gives him a final look before turning back to her position at the front of the room to formally address him, “Your banishment from our lands goes into effect at dawn. You are stripped of your Fleimkepa status since you have committed treason and defied your Commander. May your fight continue on.”  

Titus’s eyes glimmer with sadness and eventual acceptance. “I am sorry, Lexa,” he lowers his head one final time before the guards grab him by the arms and drag him out of the room.

“Heda?” A voice calls out as the doors thud shut behind Titus. Her eyes draw in an older man near the front right. “What of the Fleimkepa position?”

“Once I have selected a suitable Fleimkepa, it will be announced at a formal meeting. It is a decision that I am giving much thought to, the Commander responses. “Anything else on this matter?” Her eyes scan the room cautiously, waiting for an objection about Skaikru or Clarke.

“Are there any other members of Skaikru besides Wanheda outside the blockade?”

The Commander shakes her head, “Not to my knowledge. Wanheda is the only remaining Sky Person in Polis as the other two member left without her after she was shot. Any other Sky Person outside the blockade is to be killed until the blockade is able to be lifted.”

“Skaikru…” The new Ice Nation ambassador hisses heatedly.

“This is not a discussion about the blockade or Skaikru!” Her booming voice cuts him off harshly. “The meeting at midday tomorrow is designated to discuss the progress of the blockade. Should anyone have any concerns, it can be addressed there.”

When she is met with silence, the Commander nods, “Everyone is dismissed.”

As people empty out of the room, Lexa glances over at Clarke, her eyes lifting slightly in an invisible smile. “Thank you. You did well.”

“Clarke?” A young shy voice forces her attention in front of her, “I’m really glad you are okay.”

After some of those comments during the meeting, her heart warms at his sincerity. “Mochof, Aden.”

“Aden,” Lexa states, clasping her wrist behind her back. “I will be teaching Clarke of our past and beliefs, I would like it if you joined us.” She turns to the other Nightbloods, “That goes for all of you. There is some new information that has come to my attention that could have major changes.”

“Lexa?” One of the older girls asks. “How will you be selecting the new Fleimkepa? Don’t you need someone to protect the flame?”

“Yes, I do. I consulted with the Commanders’ spirits. They advised me to select someone that I trust, knows our traditions and beliefs. If one of you must select a Fleimkepa when you are Heda, give this decision thought. The Fleimkepa will work close to you and advise you on your decisions.”

_When you are Heda._ The words cut through Clarke’s heart like a knife. She hates when Lexa talks about her impending death, this life without Lexa is not a life she would want. She can’t lose another loved one, not again. Her dad, Wells and Finn were too much. Losing Lexa would truly break her.

“That’s all for now. Go get rest. You have training early tomorrow.” Lexa smiles at them and walks them towards the door.

“Reshop, Lexa. Goodnight, Clarke,” the Nightbloods say together with little bows before they depart down the hall.

The two women use the closest stairwell to go up one level then hang a left to proceed through the corridor to their rooms. Lexa glances at Clarke, “Are you okay, Clarke?”

“Tired, it’s been a long day.” Clarke groans, ignoring the revived throbbing in her upper body and the voices of the ambassadors ringing in her ears.

“Try to get more rest tonight, I won’t wake you unless its urgent.” Lexa whispers caringly when they reach the entrance of her room.

Clarke’s heart starts sinking when she realizes Lexa intends on staying in her own room tonight. “I’ll do my best to. I will see you tomorrow. Reshop, Lexa.”

Lexa’s eyes flicker to Clarke’s cheek and her pink lips, resisting the urge to lean forward and capture them with her own. After the Ambassadors’ comments tonight, she is hesitant to show affection outside of their private chambers. “Goodnight, Clarke.”

Once she is back in her candle-lit room, her eyes fall upon the basket of clothing delivered to her earlier that day. She shuffles through the clothing until she finds a sleeveless purple nightgown. From the looks of it, she already knows it will be much easier to put on than her thick blue one in her wardrobe. She reaches around her neck to carefully untie the sling, allowing her arm to hang loosely at her side while she removes her top. The rough bandage has been burning into her shoulder the past two hours, it should have been changed hours ago. The moon is high in the sky; she doesn’t want to send for a healer this late.

She sits on the edge of her bed, facing away from the door and slowly undoes the bandages herself. A high whine emerges from her throat when the stitches yank as she pulls the bandage away from the incision. Her hands freeze when there is a soft tap on the door, she turns her head to see Lexa slipping through the door.

“Sorry, I should’ve waited.” Lexa blushes when she notices Clarke’s state of undress.

“It’s fine, I’m just trying to change my bandages.” Clarke sighs, dropping the used bandages on the ground.

“I can send for a healer,” Lexa suggests, already starting to head towards the door.

“No, it’s okay. I can do this.” Clarke dismisses her as she reaches for the bandages and herbs on the table next to the bed.

Against her better judgement, faces back towards Clarke and accepting the girl’s insistence. “Clarke, you should not have to do this yourself. At least let me help.”

Lexa holds out her hands for the herbs and bandages from Clarke. There is a brief pause before Clarke sighs and places the herbs in Lexa’s hands and lies on her back.

“You have never done this before have you?” Clarke questions as Lexa’s long slender fingers rub the herbs in circles in the area of the wound.

“No, but I also know that the wound should not look this red and swollen.” Her concerned eyes flicker up to Clarke’s face then back down to her task. “You need to take it easier tomorrow. I’m sorry I didn’t let you rest enough today.”

“We got what we needed to done.”

“Some of it could have waited,” Lexa shakes her head dismissively as she starts winding the bandages around Clarke’s chest and shoulder. “Have you been in pain?”

“Not enough to stop me from getting things done,” Clarke lifts up her body to allow the bandages to be wrapped around her. “Wind the bandages a bit tighter.” She instructs, using her left hand to guide Lexa’s hand, demonstrating the desired compression.

The touch sends tingles through Lexa’s hand and she smiles shyly at Clarke, then continues to wrap the bandages on her own. “Tomorrow you will have nothing to get done. For now, you are my guest in Polis.”

“It just makes me feel useless now,” Clarke mutters as Lexa helps her up into a sitting position.

“As I have always told you, you were born to lead, Clarke. However, right now, there is nothing you can do for your people from here. However, your knowledge of Polaris will give you a new purpose with the Natblidas. It could help your people’s future.”

Clarke nods, kicking her pants aside and grabbing the nightgown on the foot of the bed. It drops easily over her head, the hem hitting her just above the knees. The pupils of Lexa’s emerald eyes expand as they swiftly flicker up Clarke’s body. She grabs the sling off the side table and steps in front of the blonde to delicately bend her arm over her sternum and places the cloth under it.

“This nightgown suits you well,” the brunette whispers as she ties the sling around her neck.

Clarke smirks with the subtle quirk of her eyebrow, “Then you did well at picking it out.”

One hand remains on the back of young girl’s neck to pull her in for a slow kiss. The constant ache in Clarke’s body and the shouts of the angry ambassadors fade away as Lexa’s soft lips moving against hers.

Lexa’s fingers trace along the back of Clarke’s neck when she reluctantly pulls away, “You need to rest, Clarke.”

“I know,” Clarke grumbles, throwing back the furs on the bed and slides in between them.  

Lexa stands there, staring blankly, her lips parted slightly. Unsure if she is welcome to stay the night again. Her face must have revealed her thoughts because Clarke raises her eyebrows, “I’m assuming that you didn’t come in here just to change my bandages. You can stay the night if you want to.”

“I’m sorry,” Lexa stammers, crossing to the other side of the bed. “After last night and the comments tonight from the ambassadors, I didn’t know if I would be able to sleep without waking up worried.”

Clarke sighs, lolling her head to the side while Lexa slips under the furs. “I’m the Commander of Death, I could have managed. As long as no one got their hands on that gun. But, I feel safer with you here.” Her hand finds Lexa’s under the fur covers, loosely intertwining their fingers.

A surge of butterflies flutter against Lexa’s stomach, she rolls on her left side to face Clarke as her thumb caresses the side of the blonde’s hand. “That gun has been properly disposed of. I will always do everything in my power to protect you.”

“You always have,” Clarke murmurs, her voice falling with exhaustion.

Eventually, the blue eyes flutter shut; Lexa watches as her chest rises slowly and steadily with each breath. The girl who fell from the sky, is the most beautiful person that she has ever seen. Her face and spirit haven’t left her mind for a second in over four months. When she was led into her tent that faithful day, she felt a jolt to her very core. Something inside her knew this girl was going to be special somehow. Her leaping heart and tingling stomach gave her the answer. She had loved Costia, so much; she remembers the fluttery stomach and sweaty hands. But, she never felt her core shake and jolt as she did with Clarke. Her eyes begin to flutter and blink as the heaviness weighs down on them and a yawn escapes Lexa’s mouth. She gives in, scooting closer until her head nuzzles just above Clarke’s left shoulder and keeps their hands intertwined.


	4. Two Prisoners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two familiar faces it make it to Polis alive. Lexa will choose how to handle their fate.

Daeria, one of the Commander’s handmaids, is braiding Lexa’s hair into the tight intricate pattern to morph her into Heda mode. A daily routine that the Commander has become accustomed to after six years of being Heda.  As part of this routine, she uses this time to apply the bronze eyeshadow to her eyes, followed by black eyeliner.

The peaceful morning silence is broken by two loud bangs on her bedroom door, “Min yu op.” The Commander calls out, not moving her head as Daeria’s fingers spin through her hair.

Liot, the head guard, passes through the open doors. “Heda, you are needed in the throne room.”

“I do not have a council scheduled until midday, all updates with the blockade will be dealt with then.” The Commander speaks inflexibly, her eyes focused in front of her as the last of her braids is twisted tightly.

“I apologize, Heda,” he bows his head with the apology as the Commander rises from the bench and turns to face him. “This is urgent.  Two people from inside Arkadia were able to bypass the blockade and were arrested at the capitol gates.”

Daeria holds open a coat for the Commander, she grumbles as she slips her arms into each hole. “Why were they not killed? There is a kill order placed on any Sky Person, who passes the blockade.”

Liot clears his throat inaudibly, “they had help from one of our own.” The Commander’s head shoots up at that, her narrowing eyes at him.

“Indra,” Liot illuminates.

Her shoulders fall as she exhales heavily through her nose. Nothing else needs to be said. If Indra is involved, she has a decent prediction of who is waiting for her in her throne room. “This is not to be spoken of to anyone else. The other clan ambassadors cannot find out about this until I decide how to proceed. Is that understood?”

“Sha, Heda,” the head guard tilts his head down at her.

She buckles the shoulder piece across her chest before exiting her chambers, Liot at her side and two other guards in tow. The succession of heavy boots thump down the flight of stairs, prompting the guards to the open entrance to the throne room. Three guards block her vision from the kneeling pair, Indra is off the side with a guard gripping her arm and her hands secured in front of her.

“They were arrested on site, Heda,” the deep voice of a guard states when she stands in front of them. Cloth gags are stuffed in Lincoln and Octavia’s mouths as they squint up to her through the blinding sunlight shining from the open balcony. It brings her memory back to over a month ago when Clarke was in this position. If this were any other Sky Person, she would have them killed on the spot to enforce the strict kill order.

Her hand waves upwards in an order for the guards to help the pair to their feet. Unlike with Clarke, she rips the gags from their mouths and there is no whispered apology. She waves the guard away, who has been gripping Indra’s arm. There is nothing to fear from Indra.

“You two are lucky to be alive,” the Commander growls at the couple in aggravation.

“Yeah, well it was either get killed in Arkadia or take the chance that your army wouldn’t kill us.” Octavia retorts with a snarky undertone. Lincoln flashes a warning glare in the younger girl’s direction, aware that they have already pushed their luck.

The Commander stares hard at them, raising her chin up. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill both of you right now. You are no longer protected by the walls of Arkadia.”

“Because I no longer consider myself Skaikru. But, there is nothing stopping you from killing me right now.  Escaping was our only change for survival.” Aware that this may end in death, Octavia’s confident voice barely falters.

The sharp emerald eyes narrow at the statement from the former Sky Girl. Before Mount Weather, Indra had officially taken Octavia has her second when she declared herself Trikru. This isn’t desperation or new information. “What of you, Lincoln? Do you see yourself as Skaikru?”

“No, Heda.” He answers flatly, “They do not accept me as one of their own either. Either does Trikru since you enforced my banishment.”

The Commander’s eyebrow quirks, “You defied me when you refused to retreat from the Mountain after a deal was made.”

“I was not going to abandon Skaikru as you did.” Lincoln shakes his head from residual disappointment. “I was honoring an alliance that you formed, an alliance that could have brought peace together. Leaving Octavia was not an option for me either.”

The end cuts through Lexa’s chest like a spear; Clarke’s devastated face, her eyes full of distraught tears and her lips trembling, is forever imprinted in her mind. It haunted her for months after. She would see her face around every corner and in her dreams she would hear the broken voice calling after her. If she weren’t the Commander, she would have chosen to stay with Clarke and Skaikru. As Lincoln did. In hopes of peace and love.

“You lived with Skaikru for over four months, did you never see them as your people?” The Commander probes, searching for deeper answers from her former warrior.

“I stayed for Octavia. She’s my home,” The strong man testifies honorably. “I attempted to make a home out of Arkadia, I felt _safe_ but not welcomed under Kane’s power. But, once Pike gained power, I was thrown in a cell and sentenced to death for attempting to protect Trikru.”

_It hasn’t gotten better._ The indication causes the Commander’s back to go rigid as tension rises through her body. Her eyes wander over to Indra, who gives her a shallow nod.

“Pike saw me as a problem.” Octavia’s voice draws Lexa’s attention back to the prisoners. “Because I saw myself as more of a grounder than one of them. It only got worse after I tried to warn that village of the Skaikru. If I had stayed, I would have been killed after Lincoln.”

The Commander nods, fully believing that Octavia would have died for them with Trikru at her heart. “What of the other Trikru prisoners?”

The couple share a solemn look with each other, before Octavia responses. “Kane tried to break out as many as he could, but he was arrested and will probably be sentenced to death.”  

A muscle in the Commander’s shoulders wraps around itself and pulls painfully under the tension. Kane was their greatest hope, if he is executed Skaikru will likely crumple under the hands of Pike. The news is going to fuel Clarke’s guilt, there is nothing that Lexa can do to prevent that. “I presume that you used the method that you snuck Clarke though?”

Octavia nods, “Indra met us on the other side to sneak us behind the blockade.”

When the Commander peeks back at one of her most trusted warriors, she stands tall with her head held high. Clearly proud of saving Octavia and Lincoln. She directs her attention to the guards standing behind them. “Please escort Octavia to one of the secured rooms. Then, notify Wanheda of her arrival.”

Panic widens in the young girl’s eyes and Lexa clarifies to ease her worries. “For now, you are spared. You will be escorted to a guarded room to ensure your protection. Clarke will see you once she is awake and informed.” Octavia gazes at Lincoln, anxiously inquiring his fate. “Lincoln is spared to. I wish to speak to him privately before he is escorted to his respective room.”

“I will be fine, Octavia.” Lincoln assures her as the guards loosely grab her arms. Octavia gives the Commander one final skeptical stare before the guards guide her out of the room.

“Indra,” the Commander hooks her hands behind her back as she approaches the wounded warrior. “You aided the enemy during a time of war. However, the loyalties and affiliations of those you assisted are in question.  When you helped Octavia and Lincoln behind my blockade, did you see yourself as saving Sky People from their imminent death or did you see yourself as saving fellow Trikru from the hands of our current enemy?”

The woman swallows hard under the Commander’s challenging tone, she stiffens her neck and maintains eye contact. “I saw myself as saving fellow Trikru, Heda. Even though he was banished from your lands, Lincoln was born into Trikru and showed his loyalties inside the Arkadia walls. Octavia may have been born in the sky, but her heart rings Trikru. I am proud to call her my second. I was not going to let more Trikru fall at the hands of Skaikru.”

Several moments of silence pass as the Commander stares at Indra with an unreadable expression. “Others may not see it as such. They will see it as aiding the enemy and punishment will be demanded, for all three of you. For now, I suggest remaining in Polis as you continue to heal. This is not to be spoken of.”

Indra’s chest expands as it fills with air. “Sha, Heda.”

“Now, leave us. I must speak privately with Lincoln.” The Commander pivots on her boots, to confront the tall warrior. “Untie his hands,” she orders to the remaining guards in the room.

The two guards stationed by her throne march over to undo the tight bond around his back. Lincoln’s shoulders fall with released tension once his hands are free. He shakes his wrists a couple times to ease the stiffens developed during the binding. After freeing Lincoln, the guards return to their positions at the front of the room. Leaving, the Commander and Lincoln eye to eye in the center.

“From a young age, you have felt an outsider to Trikru. Why?”

“Trikru has always seen war and blood must have blood as the solution. I have always preferred peace.”

_Peace._ The answer she knew she would get, but was prying for anyways.  “I am trying to change our ways to blood must not have blood because I also want more peace in our future. It is the only way that our people will thrive. As you can imagine, most of our people object to this. Do you support me in this vision?”

“Yes, Heda.” He nods. “You are the first Commander to attempt to achieve such a vision. I am honored to support you.”

Her instincts are telling her this is right and that Lincoln can be trusted again. His intentions at the Mountain were pure and human. “What do you know of the Fleimkepa position?”

Lincoln is quiet for a moment, the question taking him by surprise. “I know that the Fleimkepa’s main object is to protect the spirit of the Commander. They also serve as a mentor or teacher to the current Commander. Your Fleimkepa, Titus, has been one of the longest serving Fleimkepas.”

The news hasn’t traveled as fast as she thought it would. “Titus is no longer my Fleimkepa. He has been banished.” Lexa is shocked when she is able to keep the bitterness out of her voice when she speaks of him. “He did not support my vision for our future and attempted to kill Clarke.”

“I am sorry, Heda.” He bows his head.

The Commander strides closer to him as she follows her instincts. “If I were to lift your banishment, would you consider in fulfilling this position?”

Lincoln’s eyes widen in astonishment, “It would be an honor, Heda.”

* * *

 

 “Clarke!” Octavia drops her feet off the bed when the blonde marches into her room.

“Octavia, what the hell happened? What are you doing here?” Clarke quickly meets the girl in the middle of the room. As soon as she was informed of Octavia’s arrival, she got dressed as fast as she could. She couldn’t believe Octavia managed to get her alive and in one piece.

“Things in Arkadia have gotten worse. Lincoln and I just barely escaped with the help of Indra.” The underlying resentment and frustration of Octavia’s tone triggers Clarke to instinctively brace herself for being blamed. “What the hell happened to you though? Murphy told me what happened.” She takes a step closer to stare at the sling across her friend’s body.

“I’m fine, now. I’ll explain later.” Clarke’s mind swarming with hesitations of how much she should reveal about her relationship with Lexa. Right now, she is much more alarmed over the reason that Octavia and Lincoln _had_ to escape. _How could have things possibly gotten worse?_ “Tell me what happened.”

Octavia digs inside her jacket, pulling out a white prescription bottle. “Your mom gave these to me before we left.  I told her what happened, she figured that you could use some pain killers.”

Clarke takes the bottle with a relieved smile, “Yeah these healing herbs only do so much.”

“Pike was going to execute Lincoln, if we didn’t escape last night,” the younger crosses her arms over her chest and her lips curled down. Her face is bare of warpaint and grounder markings, but several bruises and cuts mark her face. More marks than she had two days ago when Clarke last saw her. 

“What? Why?”

Octavia shakes her head as her eyes gloss over with infuriated tears, “He was going to kill any former Trikru or anyone that defended them. I was going to be next. My brother did nothing, he was going to be the one to kill Lincoln.” Her eyes squeeze shut as she clenches her jaw tightly. “There were so many Trikru that we weren’t able to save. And now, Kane is locked in there. He will probably be sentence to death also.”

The blonde tries to form words, but her mouth just hangs open. “How...has this happened? Does Lexa know?”

“Yeah she does,” Octavia tilts her head at the door. “We were arrested at the gates then brought to Lexa. Lincoln is still there talking to her.”

“What are we going to do?” Clarke groans, she runs her left hand through her hair. “More Trikru are going to die at the hands of Skaikru. If Kane dies and Pike keeps gaining more power….”

“I don’t know,” the brunette places her hands on her hips and shakes her head. “There is always hope with your mom.”

Clarke sucks in a deep breath through her nose as she feels tears prickling the back of her eyes at the mention of her mother. “If Kane could be sentenced to death for speaking against Pike and trying to save Trikru. Who says that he won’t do the same thing for my mom?” Her voice cracking at the end with the suggestion.

After witnessing the treatment of Kane, it wouldn’t be surprised if Abby is met with a similar fate. Octavia doesn’t want to give Clarke false hope by saying that her mom will be safe. At this point, no one is safe. “If it ever gets to that point, I hope more people will come to their sense.”

_What if her mom is sentenced to death?_ “I should have left with you the other day and gritted through the pain. Maybe I could have helped.” Her stomach twists in painful knots as she internally kicks herself with reflexive guilt.

“There is nothing that you could have done, Clarke. And you were in no condition to travel, you can’t blame yourself for that.” Octavia assures her compassionately.

“Everything is my fault though,” her voice shakes with exasperation. “The chaos in Arkadia is my fault. It was my fault that I got shot.”

Octavia steps closer to her visibly upset friend, “Murphy told me what happened. He told why Titus shot you.”

Clarke doesn’t respond immediately, her eyes dart away from the other girl to a spot in the corner of the room. _‘Lexa will never execute her duty while you live. She might even be angry enough to declare war!’_ His voice ringing in her ears wrap the lump of guilt in her throat. Lexa had let her guard down in front of Murphy, anyone with eyes could have figured out that there was something between them. 

When Octavia realizes that Clarke struggling to speak through her emotions, she continues thoughtfully. “I had some speculation that there might be something. But, I didn’t know. And I’m sorry,” She says looking straight at Clarke, even though the other girl can’t meet her eyes. “I’m sorry for what I said to you that day. You are better than the person I thought you were. I know you did everything you could to protect Skaikru, even from here. Nothing is your fault.”

The long apology loosens the ball in Clarke’s stomach and throat, feeling comforted that someone recognizes her efforts. Until now, Lexa has been the only one reminding Clarke that she is an admirable leader and is not at fault for recent events. She hadn’t noticed the few tears slip from the corners of her eyes until Octavia pulls her into a soft hug, avoiding pressing too hard against her injury.

“I just wish I could have done better,” Clarke sniffles quietly as they unwrap their arms from around each other.

“Not everyone can be saved, Clarke.” Octavia keeps a hand on Clarke’s left shoulder. “Skaikru is going to have to figure out if they want to be saved.”

Those words slowly sink into Clarke’s head, she breathes out. “Maybe you’re right. It’s just hard to sit back now and feel powerless.”

Octavia senses the emotions becoming heavy again, “For once, maybe you can relax without the demands of leadership. And you can enjoy this.” She spins in a circle with her arms open to a bedroom bigger than anything on the Ark. “With your Commander girlfriend.”

Clarke shoves her lightly, but can’t suppress the smile forming on her face at the lightheartedness from her friend. “Oh shut up, you know you can’t tell anyone about that, yet. And last time we talked, I thought you disapproved of her.”

“She’s grown on me,” Octavia shrugs, backing up to sit back on the bed. “Especially since she didn’t kill us right away and might give us a chance.”

“I’m surprised you even made it past the blockade without being killed.” The blonde mutters.

A loud growl rips from Octavia’s stomach, startling both girls. Clarke smirks, “when’s the last time you ate?”

“Umm,” Octavia hums as she racks her brain. “Early yesterday I think.”

“I’ll go get you something to eat,” the blonde’s stomach rumbles at the thought of food.

“Thanks, Clarke,” she hears from behind her as she walks towards the door. Even hearing a minor thank you fills her lungs with air and helps release some of the weight in her chest. It has been so long that she has heard a thank you from anyone other than Lexa.

* * *

 

 “We should just attack this is pointless!” Farho, the Azgeda ambassador, repeats himself for the seventh time during the council this afternoon.

The Commander resists rolling her eyes at his repetitiveness, “The twelve clans will be ordered to attack if Skaikru attacks our army or breaks the blockade.”

“Do we know if there has been a change in leadership? Has there been any progress?” Caris, the Sangedakru ambassador probes peacefully. Of all the twelve ambassadors, Caris is the youngest, barely eighteen, but she has remained the most logical in respects to the blockade.

The conversation with Lincoln and Octavia plays in her head. There has been no progress. If anything it has gotten worse and Pike has gained more power. However, the Commander can’t release that information yet. It could put Lincoln and Octavia’s lives at risk, if they found out the source. The information would add fuel to the fire, a fire that she might not be able to control. “We don’t have any further information at this time. In time, we believe that Chancellor Pike will be over thrown. The Sky People will have to make that decision themselves.”

“And what if Pike stays in power?” Caris inquires further, pushes her petite stature further up in her chair.

“Skaikru only has so much time to fix their leadership before they run out of food and supplies. They will be forced to either surrender or attack our army.” The Commander answers definitively.

“They have guns. Their weapons are far superior to ours,” the young ambassador reminds the twelve clans logically. “How will we defend ourselves if they attack?”

Their weaponry is one of the core reasons that the Commander was hesitant to attack in the first place. There will be significant bloodshed. They have already lost so many warriors, the damage would be detrimental. “The armies of the twelve clans outnumber than that of Skaikru significantly. If it comes to battle, we will win but we will have to prepare for blood.”

“Wanheda remains here in Polis,” the ice nation ambassador points out in a shockingly neutral tone. “She must have information about Skaikru.”

“Wanheda has provided all the information that she has. Unfortunately, due to her absence from Arkadia, she has no new information.”

“How do we know that she is withholding anything she may know? Her loyalties must be to Skaikru since she has remained affiliated to them!” A hiss comes from Uzac, the Yujleda ambassador, as he cuts into the discussion.

The rising anger from Uzac causes Lexa to clench her jaw tighter then bare her teeth at him. “Wanheda is a commendable leader, who realizes the mistakes of her people. As we do, she believes in justice.”

“Justice is blood must have blood!” Uzac snarls, slithering out of his seat.

The Commander’s insides seethe with vexation, the air in her throat shakes with every breath. Repeated mistakes from Skaikru has made it incredibly difficult to continue to defend the new belief, that she has been attempting to enforce. Hopefully, ‘blood must not have blood’ will become easier to defend with a supportive Fleimkepa at her side.

“Anything else?” She inquires, scanning over the faces of the twelve ambassadors. A few moments pass and no one speaks up. “Very well. Everyone is dismissed.” She waves them off with her hand.

After departing the room, the Commander travels down three flights of stairs to the floor with the secured rooms. She waves at the two guards positioned at the front of the door on the left hand side. In the room, Lincoln spins away from gazing out the window to bow his head at the Commander striding through the open doors.

“Have you given any final thoughts to my offer?”

“Sha, Heda. My answer has not changed. It would be an honor to serve as Fleimkepa.”

Her cheek bones raise marginally into an invisible smile. “Your banishment has been lifted. I will make an announcement tomorrow. You will be given proper instructions on certain aspects of your new position. You will also need to meet with the Natblidas since you will be working closely with them.”

Lincoln blinks hard, “Won’t people question my return and my ability to succeed as Fleimkepa.”

“I expect there to be questions and concerns about your banishment and your relationship with Skaikru,” the Commander answers honestly, already preparing herself for some backlash. “But, I am their Commander. They will accept this, choosing the Fleimkepa is solely the Commander’s duty. They have no say. As Clarke is, you and Octavia are under my protection.”

“Mochof, Heda.”

“Come,” Lexa motions with a tilt of her shoulder at the door. “I will take you to Octavia.”

Lincoln exits his chambers behind Lexa and continues down the hall to a door on the right. In Octavia’s room, she is lying on her bed with Clarke leaning against the headboard. Lexa’s heart leaps in her chest when she catches a glimpse of Clarke smiling during a conversation with her friend. Her lips spread wider while they melt into mesmerizing emerald pools. Octavia sits up in bed when she realizes Clarke’s focus is elsewhere.

“I was wondering when I would be seeing you,” the young Sky Girl comments, directing her eyes at Lincoln.

The Commander strolls a foot closer with her hands clasped behind her back. “I had a meeting with the twelve clan ambassadors and Lincoln used that time to think over something I asked him.”  A small v forms between Octavia’s eyebrows as her forehead winkles in confusion and her eyes dart between the two grounders.

Subconsciously, Lincoln squares his shoulders and grips his left below in front of him as he elaborates. “The Commander has asked me to serve as Fleimkepa and I have accepted the offer.”

Behind Octavia, Clarke raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Fleimkepa?” Octavia questions, her hands pressed into the furs “Like Titus use to be? The one who shot Clarke?”

“Yes,” the Commander’s gut twists at the words as her eyes fall upon the sling that remains across her body. “Titus has been banished. It went into effect at dawn. It is a great honor to serve as Fleimkepa.”

“So, your banishment has been lifted?” Octavia asks, slipping off the bed. The couple’s gaze locks as Lincoln’s eyes crinkle in the corners and he nods once.

“What of me, Lexa?” The young girl’s voice wavers a tad with worry that she might not be as fortunate.

Lexa stares at the girl, who she believes is a grounder at heart. Even before Mount Weather, Indra saw the Trikru in her blood. “You may stay in Polis. I can arrange for you and Lincoln to share a room, if you wish.”

Octavia releases a heavy sigh of relief, “Sha, Heda. Mochof.”

“I only suggest that you refrain from mentioning any loyalty you may still have to Skaikru until this resolves. And that you don’t draw attention a lot of attention to yourself.”

At the mention of Skaikru, Lexa observes as the features of Octavia’s face darken and her jaw clicks subtly. “You don’t have to worry about my loyalty to Skaikru anymore. Now that my brother has turned against me, there is no one I really care about there.”

“Did anyone notice them sneaking out of Arkadia or through the blockade?” Clarke aims her inquiry at the Commander.

“No,” the Commander flickers her eyes between Lincoln and Octavia. “They got lucky. The ambassadors at the meeting would have brought it up immediately.”

Clarke gets on her feet, “If they were able to get through unnoticed, I can probably sneak back into Arkadia unnoticed also. I can get my mom and maybe fix things.”

“No!” Lexa yells with her head and heart. Both the Commander and Lexa in her couldn’t let Clarke wander into Arkadia, knowing how it would end.

“Clarke,” Octavia’s tone is laced with raw concern as she slowly exhales. “You can’t. You will be killed on the spot. Pike sees you as he sees me. As a grounder, not Skaikru. When we snuck out, we only had to worry about the blockade. You would have to worry about both.”

The truth sends a knife to Clarke’s heart. Not a grounder. Not Skaikru. _Who is she? Where is home?_ She flits her eyes away from the group, not wanting them to see the emotion creeping into her eyes.

“Octavia is right, Clarke.” Lincoln agrees sensitively. “There is nothing you can do from inside the walls. You will either be thrown in jail or sentenced to death if you aren’t killed on the spot.”

_Thrown in jail_. Sends a shiver up Clarke’s spine, _it always come to that with her doesn’t it?_ On the Ark, when she first arrived in Polis and it could have ended up in that way again.

“There has to be something we can do from here,” Clarke’s voice weak with hopelessness and exhaustion.

Despite the fact that the Commander sees Octavia glancing away hopeless and Lincoln drops his head, she can’t allow Clarke to lose all hope. “We will try to figure out something, Clarke.”

“Yeah,” Clarke the word barely falls off her tongue, not entirely believing Lexa’s comforting words. The options for Skaikru are running out fast, they all know it. All she can think about is her mom. She can’t lose her too.

“Yesterday,” the Commander changes the subject when Clarke’s upset demeanor lingers, “Clarke brought something interesting to my attention. It will be important insight to you, as Fleimkepa,” she twists her head to Lincoln. “I will have Clarke join us in the sacred room tomorrow after the announcement.” The pair of emerald eyes fall to Octavia, “And you are welcome to join us, I’m sure you will find it fascinating as well, Octavia”

Octavia scrunches her eyebrows together as she looks at Clarke curiously. Clarke whispers, “you will, I promise.”

“I will have a messenger inform of the time tomorrow. For now, I will get a room prepared for you and Octavia. You will be brought there when it is ready.” The Commander informs Lincoln, aiming to wrap up the conversation and spend time with Clarke.

“Thank you, Lexa.” Lincoln says sincerely.

“You’re welcome,” she veers her eyes to the blonde’s face. “You ready, Clarke?”

Clarke ignores the teasing smirk pulling on Octavia’s lips as she trails Lexa behind. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Octavia.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Min yu op: enter
> 
> Sha, heda: yes. commander
> 
> Sangedakru: desert clan
> 
> Yujleda: the broadleaf clan


	5. A New Trikru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa have some downtime together before the announcement of the new Fleimkepa must be made.

The candles in Lexa’s room glow brighter as the deep orange light from the sunset gradually fades away behind the horizon. Lexa strips away her Commander gear, her shoulder piece followed by the thick over coat. On the other side of her room, Clarke gazes out the window as the purple and orange beams fill the sky.

“Clarke?” Lexa cross-steps around her bed to move towards the blonde. “Have you eaten yet?”

Before answering, Clarke’s eyes flicker up the brunette’s body, clothed in black tight pants with the weapon holsters fastened around her quads and a low-cut form fitting black long sleeve top. “I brought some food to Octavia earlier but she ate almost everything.  She was starving, so I haven’t eaten much at all.”

“I will inform them to start preparing dinner for us,” Lexa crosses over the room to her chamber doors and leans out to order the guards in Trigedasleng.

As a light throb beats against her collarbone, Clarke thinks of her mom trapped in Arkadia. When she saw her mom over a week ago, they knew that could be the last time they saw each other; _may we meet again_. It doesn’t make the situation easier, she hopes with all her heart that her mom makes it through alive. But, her mom has changed since they were in the sky. Now if the morally correct route puts her in danger, she will stand up for her people and what she believes is right; meaning she will unconditionally support Kane.

“Are you okay, Clarke?” Lexa asks when the silence stretches across the room for too long.

Her eyes snap out of the contemplative daze from the window to Lexa standing a couple feet behind her, looking at her thoughtfully. “Yeah, just thinking about my mom.”

The subtle strain to Clarke’s voice softens Lexa’s demeanor even more, her brain searches for comforting words. She closes the couple steps between them, holding onto the weakened blue eyes. “Your mother is strong and wise; she will be okay.”

Clarke averts her eyes away, barely nodding in acknowledgement. “Thank you for not killing Octavia right away.”

“Octavia is not a threat.” Lexa repeats the words Clarke yelled at her a couple of months ago. Earning a small smile from the blonde. “I see Octavia as Trikru, it is where her heart is. I had no reason to harm her.”

The honesty behind Lexa’s words flood Clarke’s body with warmth. “She never felt a home at the Ark or with Skaikru. I’m glad she has found a place with Trikru.”

“Come, dinner awaits us.” Lexa goes to stretch out her hand for Clarke, but her nerves get the best of her and she motions to the door instead.

* * *

 

 In the Commander’s private dining quarters, there is a long rectangular wooden table in the middle with four large chairs placed around it and window extending across the back wall. On the table, the set plates are full of meat and vegetables with three tall candles placed in the middle. Until now, Clarke has never eaten in this room and didn’t even know that it existed. She always ate with Lexa and the others in the main tower dining room or in one of their respective rooms. “I didn’t know this existed,” Clarke comments, pulling out one of the chairs to take a seat at head of the table. It surprises Clarke when Lexa tugs back the chair next to her, opting not to sit at the other side at the head of the table.

“Since you came to Polis, I haven’t used it as much.” Lexa says, pouring water into both of their cups.  “It’s nice to get away from the others at meal times and not have to talk about war and politics.”

The right corner of Clarke’s lips twitches up, the last thing that she needed was to hear was harsh remarks about the Sky People from the people of Polis. She reaches into the pocket of her jacket to find the small prescription bottle from her room, she loosens the cap and shakes out two yellow capsules. “Pain medication from my mom,” Clarke explains when she notices Lexa cocking her head to the side, studying the foreign pills on the table.

“The news got back to your mom,” Lexa breathes out slowly as her chest tightens with guilt. In the back of her mind she knew it would get back the Sky People that the Commander failed to protect Clarke, their leader. “I hope the medication helps your pain more than the herbs.”

The Sky Girl pops the two pills in her mouth and swigs water down after them. “They will. Would have helped more yesterday, I don’t think the herbs are used for treating gunshot wounds.” Growls vibrate against Clarke’s stomach as she stabs pieces of meat to drop on her plate. “Tell me about your meeting today.”

A couple of moments pass as the Commander chews the deer meat in her mouth, wishing that they didn’t have to talk about this. That they could be Clarke and Lexa together, not two leaders.  “It went as expected, nothing that I wasn’t prepared for.”

Clarke’s fork falls back on the plate before she places the piece of meat in her mouth. “In other words, they still want to kill everyone in Arkadia?”

Lexa sighs, “Some of them think more logically in terms of Skaikru’s weaponry. Others just want justice.”

Clarke nods, staring down at the swirls of red juices on her plate, “I’m assuming that they are unaware of Pike’s imprisonment and execution plans?”

“I may have to reveal some of this information tomorrow when I announce Lincoln as the new Fleimkepa.” The usually stoic and confident voice lowers with hesitation. Her heart anxious and bracing itself for a possible outburst from Clarke. That she would be angry at Lexa once again for putting Skaikru at risk and failing to protect them as she had vowed to.

Clarke’s stomach tightens momentarily when the Commander confirms that Pike’s gain in power won’t stay a secret for long. “I know, I figured.” The words are mumbled in defeat as Clarke mindlessly pokes at the food on her plate.

A few tension knots release from Lexa’s chest when there is no immediate outburst from Clarke. But, the saddened expression on Clarke’s face does not relieve Lexa’s heart all the way. She wishes that the smile plastered on Clarke’s face in Octavia’s room would have stayed. “I am sorry, Clarke. It is the only way that they would see Lincoln as the new Fleimkepa and a loyal Trikru.”

“Lexa, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry.” Clarke shakes her head and connects the wide apologetic eyes staring at her. Almost begging Clarke not to be upset with her. “Skaikru has done it themselves. We can’t protect them from that truth.”

Over the next several minutes, the only the sound of utensils scraping against the plates can be heard as a profound silence lingers. Lexa’s eyes flutter back to Clarke, who’s eyes are practically in her plate of food. The weight of Skaikru and her own decisions are clearly wearing her down.

“How did you decide to appoint Lincoln as your new Fleimkepa?” Clarke asks somewhat abruptly.

Lexa swallows down the bite of food, “My instincts were telling me to. Lincoln has always disliked war and only fought when necessary to protect the ones he loves. This is a unique quality to my people. It leads me to believe that he will be a strong supporter of blood must not have blood and a peaceful future.”

Though Clarke doesn’t smile, her face features lift and her eyes lighten up to a sky blue. “I remember the first time I met Lincoln, Octavia begged me to trust him because he wasn’t like the rest of the grounders. He did everything he could to protect Octavia. Turns out he isn’t like any of us, Lincoln is the most peaceful out of all of us.”

“He is,” Lexa smiles admirably. “I think we could all learn something from him. I know I could.”

“Won’t your people question his choices at the Mountain and where his loyalties lie?” Clarke probes doubtfully, her eyes crinkling at the woman.

“I told Lincoln to expect some repercussions. However, I am their Commander and they will have to accept my decision,” her voice firming with authority and absoluteness.

Clarke’s mind wanders back to the incident in the throne room when the villager lunged at Lexa for not seeking revenge against Skaikru. The thought of that man being successful constricts the air in Clarke’s throat. _What if there are more because of the Commander’s decisions?_  “I know, but someone already tried to kill you two days ago because they didn’t want to accept your decision.”

“And that man is dead for trying to do so.” Lexa retorts.

Clarke rolls her eyes at the tranquility of Lexa’ voice, “well I’m maxed out on people trying to kill us this week.”

Lexa breathes out a quiet laugh through her nose and an amused grin splits across her face. Blue eyes snap over to her at the reaction with both of her eyebrows raised, visibly stunned by the Commander’s reaction. Lexa doesn’t even remember the last time she has laughed.

Despite all the negative news of Skaikru, Clarke’s heart swells at the simple laugh from Lexa. A site she was unsure that she would ever witness. “What of Octavia though? Won’t people revolt against another Sky Person being safe in Arkadia?”

“At the meeting tomorrow, I will claim Octavia as Trikru.” The Commander states definitively, her heart and mind coming to this decision. “And will defend her past actions as such. Indra will be there as support for her second. Some will still be upset with this decision, but Octavia too will be under my protection.”

Octavia is going to be considered Trikru, officially a grounder. No longer Skaikru. There, they saw Octavia as a grounder. _Is that how she is seen too? Does she need to choose?_

* * *

 

On the balcony in Lexa’s room, the pair view over the city with scattered lights and the moon towering over the trees. After nearly half a year on the ground, the moon still appears exceptionally diminutive to Clarke. Back on the Ark, the moon glowed and she could make out the craters and crevices. There are times when she misses being up in space, not feeling the weight of leadership and feeling something close to home. Even there, she felt isolated after she was thrown in confinement for trying to save her people. She was blamed there and was going to be floated by her own people because they didn’t accept her as their own. _Is it so different now?_

“What are you thinking about, Clarke?” Lexa asks nervously next to her, not use to asking personal questions.

Clarke draws in a long breath through her nose. “Just about how much bigger the moon looked when the Ark was still in space.”

“I bet it was beautiful,” a dreamy smile spreads across Lexa’s lips as she continues to watch the moon, trying to imagine how it would be to be that close to it. “Do you miss it?”

“Being up there?” Clarke tilts her head up towards the stars. And Lexa just nods in response. “Sometimes I do. Before I was locked up at least. It was easier, I didn’t feel the pressure of leadership. I was just Clarke Griffin.”

Lexa imagines a carefree Clarke with her great big grin and her heart on her sleeve.  She wishes they both had that together; but their world has thrust leadership upon them. At least they share that weight together now, being the Commander has become more bearable with Clarke in her life.

“Until I was thrown in confinement and sentenced to death because I was trying to save my people even then,” Clarke shakes her head. “I think that’s when I really started to feel lonely and that I didn’t really belong.”

The Commander blinks several times as she gawks at Clarke. Her pale skin illuminates under the moonshine, nearly sparkling with beauty. _The Sky Girl must have glowed with beauty when she was living in the sky._ “And what do you feel now?”

There is only a low hum from the city below as Clarke contemplates, her eyes drop away from the moon to the trees and ground below them. “I don’t know. Arkadia isn’t home,” her voice comes out as small and weak. “Again, they don’t see me as Skaikru even. You heard Octavia, they would kill me for trying to save them. Just as they were going to in the sky.” A beat passes as she swallows away the betrayal and heartache. “Those aren’t my people. And I don’t know if Polis is home either.”

Lexa’s smile falls into a frown throughout Clarke’s rant as it tears through her heart. Her eyes drift away from the blonde’s face, hurting that Clarke doesn’t find Polis home either. Her heart jolts suddenly when Clarke’s hand runs over the back of her hand, that is resting on the damaged railing of her balcony.

“All I know is when I’m with you is the only time I don’t feel alone. Maybe that’s what matters.” Clarke confesses perceptively to her.

A light shade of black dusts over Lexa’s cheeks, her heat thuds against her chest as she follows Clarke’s lead. “And when I’m with you, is the only time I can really be Lexa and not Heda or Commander Lexa. But, just me.”

Clarke stares at the side of Lexa’s blushed face, her own stomach doing flips at the timid confession from the other woman. When glazy green swirls lock with hers, Clarke tilts her head to the left and leans in until Lexa’s smooth lips are pressing against hers. At first, their lips move slowly in sync with each other, taking comfort in each brush against each other. The emptiness and uselessness Clarke has been feeling all day is replaced with love and fulfillment.

Clarke’s hand slides up Lexa’s toned arm, as they rotate a step to face each other, her hand comes to a rest on her shoulder. Lexa releases a satisfied sigh against Clarke’s lips and wraps an arm around her waist. The intoxicating spell of Clarke’s lips blurs her mind and unleashes flutters in her stomach and chest. The sensation is addicting; she presses her lips slightly harder against Clarke’s as she remains mindful of the sling in between them. Lexa has waited all day for this moment, the last remnants of Heda fade away into each brush of their lips.

* * *

 

Four guards stand behind Clarke and Octavia, who are seated in the front left of the throne room. Close enough to the Commander, out of precaution. Lincoln is positioned to the right of the throne, his hand gripping his wrist behind his back to broaden his shoulders and stiffen his chest. People eye Lincoln suspiciously, not appearing bothered by his presence but rather confused of his purpose

“Is that another Skaikru?” Uzac growls as he stomps in the direction of Octavia, drawing a dagger from his belt. A guard jumps in front of Octavia and twists the bald man’s arm behind his back, kicking him to bring him to his knees.

“Octavia is not Skaikru,” the words rip from the Commander’s mouth through her clenched teeth. “Strip him of his weapons,” she orders the guard behind him with a tilt of her head. The beady brown eyes of the ambassador sharpen boldly at the Commander.

The muscular guard yanks his arm to get him to stand on his feet, patting him down to remove one more dagger from his belt. “You may stay, but I will not have any more disruptions today.” The Commander scowls at the man, who remains silent and tenses his jaw into place. All eyes in the room watch the man as he marches back to his seat in the far right of the room. He crosses his arms over his chest and continues to glare at Octavia with disdain and disgust.

“I have summoned all of you here today to announce that I have appointed a new Fleimkepa,” the Commander’s strong voice quiets any remnants of conversation in the audience.  “Lincoln kom Trikru will serve in this position.” Her head turns to face Lincoln, who meets her eyes.

“Was he not banished for defying you at the Mountain?” A middle aged man questions coolly from the left side of the room. His wrinkling eyes narrow slightly at the man besides the Commander.

The Commander gives a single firm nod. “Yes, Lincoln was banished. But, I have lifted his banishment because he has proven his loyalties to Trikru and our people.” Her voice projects loudly and concisely, exemplifying her confidence to hold the power in the meeting.

“How can he be trusted again? He made his loyalties to Skaikru clear!” Farho expectantly spits on the words, his hands curling around the armrests of his chair. His eyes nearly stabbing through Lincoln then flickering to disgust and distrust at his Heda.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lexa spots Lincoln swallowing a lump in his throat and tensing his muscles under pressure. “It was a respectable decision that Lincoln made on the Mountain, he saw it as honoring an alliance that I had made. As I had believed, Lincoln saw this as our best chance for peace.” Before she continues, Lexa peeks at Clarke fleetingly, still concerned about where this will lead. Clarke gives her a subtle nod to continue on with her direction. “Lincoln further proved his loyalty to Trikru inside the Arkadia walls when he was locked away and sentenced to death for attempting to defend our people here and our people that were being held captive by Skaikru.”

A few gasps sprout through the crowd, the Commander puts her hand up when enraged personnel yell and spring to their feet. “Let me finish then you may be heard!” Her voice slams off the walls, the disgruntled individuals slink back into their seats. “With the help of Octavia, Indra and others inside Arkadia, he was able to escape death. He fought against a powerful force inside Arkadia’s walls for us, for his people. Lincoln has always been Trikru and will be a trusted Fleimkepa.”

After finishing Lincoln’s defense, the Commander emerges from her throne and focuses on the brunette to her right. “Octavia was Indra’s second and became Trikru before the battle at Mount Weather. Some of you may remember, she fought with us. She regularly stayed in our villages. She dressed in our clothing and war-paint, a she does now!” Lexa extends her arm at Octavia, gesturing the clothes that can be found in the markets of Polis. “She became one of us! Her loyalty as Trikru has been proven, she warned a Trikru village of a Skaikru attack. She defied Pike and put her own safety at risk to save the lives of our own. She nearly got herself killed in Arkadia for defending us and trying to save the lives of those inside Arkadia. Octavia is Trikru, she is to be seen and respected as such!”

“Where was she when the three hundred of our warriors were killed?” A deep distrustful voice shouts from the back of the room. The question is followed by mutters and glares at Octavia and the Commander.

Octavia rises to her feet, before the Commander has a chance to speak. “Pike’s army moved at night, so that Sky People such as myself would not try to stop them. It wasn’t spoken of, I only found out about it once I met the Commander and Clarke in the battle field.”

“She speaks true,” Indra speaks bravely from the other side of the room, her dark eyes locking with Octavia’s.  The warrior’s attention switches to the assembly in the room, trying to stand as tall with a visible injury stashed in a sling across her body. “Skaikru killed everyone in the army, except for me. So, I could deliver a message to the Commander and Wanheda. I saw Octavia’s face when she entered the battlefield full of bodies. She felt the loss as we did. I am honored to call Octavia my second because her heart is Trikru.”

Clarke’s heart warms in her chest and the muscles at the corners of her lips twitch, feeling elated as Octavia lowers in the seat next to her with relief and comfort from Indra’s speech. There is a minor twinge of jealousy in her swelling heart though, she doesn’t have a home with Trikru as Octavia does.

“Any further questions on this matter?” The Commander scans the faces in the crowd, surprised and appreciative that there are not numerous objections over Octavia being recognized as Trikru.

Chel, the Trikru ambassador, speaks up in a fairly even tone. “There are more Trikru deaths at the hands of Skaikru. How is this happening?”

“We had Trikru inside Arkadia because they sought the advanced medical aid that they were able to provide. As Pike gained power, he put all Trikru in captivity and anyone that attempted to help our people.” The Commander subconsciously cracks her jaw from once from side to side as she feels the loss of more of her people. “This includes Octavia and Marcus Kane.”

Chel flies quickly up on her feet, flicking her hand in the air with her words. “We can’t allow this! We must attack!”

“Skaikru has not broken the terms of the blockade. We will not attack!” Her voice whips through the crowd and the Commander snaps her hand on her throne.

Her fellow ambassador scrunches her nose at her and shakes her head. “How many will we sacrifice? This is not justice!”

The Commander rises out of her throne to match the woman’s subtle fight for dominance in the dispute. “Victory stands on the back of sacrifice! Skaikru will see justice.”

The thinner framed woman coils back slightly from the Commander’s intimidating stance. “How many Trikru were there? Why were they not all saved?”

Lincoln steps forward to be in line with Lexa, “They were about fifteen maybe, locked up. Marcus Kane was going to set us free, but he was arrested after freeing me.”

Before additional protests can be formed from Chel or the other ambassadors, the Commander cuts in. “I will hold an assembly tomorrow with the clan ambassadors on this specifically.  You may gather your concerns for them. Until then, this is dismissed.” With a swift wave of her hand, the Commander dismisses the room.

Ambassadors and political subjects glance at each other, startled at the abrupt end to the meeting. There are murmurs and hisses of Skaikru and Trikru with an occasional glower at the two former Sky Girls.  Clarke and Octavia stand to leave when the back of the room is empty, but the Commander’s voice stops their feet. “Clarke, please bring Octavia down to the sacred room. Lincoln and I will join you after we speak with the Natblidas.”

“Okay,” Clarke nods at Lexa then turns to Octavia with her eyebrows raised. “I’m going to show you something that you won’t believe.”

The four guards trail the two girls closely behind as they exit the throne room and the doors shut behind them. Off in the corner, the Nightbloods are huddled together. Lexa smiles at them and curls her fingers for them to come over. “Meet Lincoln. You will be spending a lot of time with him.”

Lincoln’s left cheek pulls up into a lopsided smile and gives the children a small wave as they approach him. “I have known Lincoln since I was very young, both of us from Trikru. Lincoln was one of our very best warriors. He will be an excellent teacher for you.”

“I was never nearly as good as Heda,” he nudges his broad shoulders in Lexa’s direction. “But, I can teach you how to become a better fighter, if you wish.”

Lexa smirks at Lincoln then back at her Natblidas, “Introduce yourselves to our new Fleimkepa.”

The Natblidas exchange quick peeps with each other, then simultaneously straighten their posture and begin introducing themselves in order of the small u that they formed. Lincoln smiles at each one of the Nightbloods as they say their name.

“Aden.”

“Tyman.”

“Alista.”

“Rian.”

“Liam.”

“Miana”

“Jio.”

Lexa gives them an approving nod at the end and she folds her hands behind her back. “Lincoln and I must join Clarke in the sacred room to discuss an important matter and to start teaching Lincoln of the Fleimkepa’s duties. We will meet you later during your training.”

The Nightbloods eagerly bow their heads at the Commander and Lincoln then run off down the hall together. Their young voices and clanging boots fill the once quiet corridors. “There is an artifact in the sacred room that you must see. Clarke may have information that could change our people’s beliefs and legends that have been passed down.”

Lincoln’s thin eyebrows scrunch together slightly as he blinks a couple times, nodding, “Sha, Heda.”

 


	6. Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa tell Octavia and Lincoln about Polaris and the first Commander. Later, Octavia brings Clarke to see Indra.

“This can’t be real,” Octavia is circling around Polaris when Lexa and Lincoln arrive in the sacred room, allowing streams of daylight to flood into the dimly lit den. “Is she serious, Heda? About this?” She spins to face the drawing on the wall then back to the Commander with her mouth partly agape.

“Yes,” Lexa confirms as she locks on to sapphire eyes, that are being illuminated by the torch in Clarke’s hand.  “Clarke and I aligned facts and coincidences together once this information was brought to our attention. Together we have formed that it is a possible conclusion that the first Commander was a Sky Person.”

Lincoln’s eyes dart between Clarke and Lexa, “You believe the first Commander was Skaikru?”

The Commander pivots on one foot to rotate a half step in Lincoln’s direction. “You’re familiar with the legend of the first Commander, correct?”

“Sha,” Lincoln wiggles his finger at the drawing behind Clarke then to the one in the darkened corner. “Almost one hundred years ago, a woman appeared on earth and people gathered around her, seeking answers and guidance.”

“Look, you can see that she is falling from the sky,” Clarke raises the flame to the bubble enclosing on the sketched woman. Once Lincoln nods at her in recognition, his attentive eyes follow the blonde as she walks promptly over to stand next to Octavia. “And this is Polaris, an escape pod that left the Ark ninety-seven years ago. The day of the bombs and the day that your first Commander descended to earth.” The flame sparks against the side, enhancing the lettering of Polaris.

“What happened?” The new Fleimkepa’s redirects his focus to the two young women standing beside the bulky steel oval.

Clarke shakes her head, “I just know that something went wrong when they tried to become the thirteenth station on the Ark. It wasn’t really talked about it; it was almost secretive.”

Next to her, Octavia shrugs, “And I don’t know shit since I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone besides my mother or brother before I was locked up.”

“Clarke has suggested that I speak with Jaha,” the Commander meets Clarke’s eyes for validation.

“Jaha is in the City of Light or something. I doubt he would be helpful anymore because he doesn’t remember anything.” Octavia interjects with irritation swirling in her voice and her arms folded across her chest.

“He’s where?”

“He’s what?”

The Commander and Clarke snap their heads at Octavia concurrently, who jerks back and widens her eyes at the unexpected reaction. “Umm, he says he is in the City of Light. Raven and some other Skaikru have joined him by taking some pill or chip or something. I don’t really understand. They have been acting really weird and talking to some woman we can’t see by the name of Allie, I think.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Clarke half-groans out, the stress of Skaikru smacks down on her shoulders.

“Because I didn’t think it was important,” Octavia’s hand flings upwards from her side.

“Since I took command, it has been a goal of mine and the Fleimkepa to understand the City of Light. Once the blockade is lifted, I will consult the appropriate Skaikru about the City of Light and Polaris.” The Commander’s eyes instinctively shift back to Clarke’s face, seeking unnecessary but desired approval.

Lincoln drops his head, “I’m sorry, Heda. Had I known, I would have learned more while I was there. Octavia knows more than I do.”

“We will lean more together, Fleimkepa. For now, there is a book passed down from each Fleimkepa that is stored over here.” The Commander strides over to a dusty wooden shelf on the side of the room, she picks up a dark coffee-colored book with a thin string tied loosely around it. She passes it off to Lincoln, who takes it delicately in his hand. “This has all the detailed notes that you will need as Fleimkepa. About past Commanders, beliefs, important events and conclaves. It has instructions for the ritual upon my death and any other Commander that you will serve. During this ritual you will need this,” a tin rectangular container is placed in Lincoln’s grasp.

_‘Upon my death’_ floats to Clarke’s ears across the room and pierces through her chest sharper this time than the last time. Every time she hears Lexa reference her death, Clarke swears it hurts more.

Lincoln fingers through the flimsy pages, stopping every now and then to inspect a passage closer. “This is the ritual?” He leans the book downwards for Lexa, pointing at sketches on the page.

“Yes,” the Commander nods after taking a quick glimpse at the page. “You will perform these duties by using the tools in this,” her index finger taps on the tin box. “This is the flame that you need to protect, Fleimkepa.”

“I will do my reading, Heda.” Lincoln promises her and tucks the container into a pocket on the inside of his zipper-down blue jacket. “Is there anything else that I need to know?”

“When you finish reading the book, we will meet and answer any remaining questions you might have. This room holds years of our people’s history as you can see on the walls and around the room. Now, we will join the Natblidas for their combat training. They get excited when a trained warrior such as yourself practices with them.” His lips tick up into a smile as the Commander turns to the other girls standing near the drawing of the first Commander. “Clarke and Octavia, join us, they will be eager to show off if there is an audience.”

 

* * *

 

Sitting on a grassy patch on a ledge above the dirt training grounds, Clarke and Octavia watch their other halves engage with the Nightbloods. After a brief exchange of words, Lincoln positions himself off to the side with Aden. A blunt training staff is raised in the air when Lincoln squares his stance and allows the young warrior to strike at the fake weapon. The other Nightbloods gather around them, absorbed by their fellow Natblida dueling with a warrior. As the others are distracted, the Commander flickers her gaze up to Clarke. The stoic Commander façade lays flat across her face, but her eyes sparkle like an emerald crystal in sunlight.

“Did you stay in Lexa’s room last night?” Octavia asks, leaning back on her hands.

“What makes you ask that?”

Octavia pushes up from her hands to sit in a cross-legged position mimicking Clarke, “because I came looking for you early this morning before the meeting started. And you weren’t in your room.”

Clarke fiddles with the grass under them, the smooth blades sliding between her fingers then twisting lightly. Although Octavia already knows, discussing her personal relationship with Lexa makes her uneasy since she is uncertain of how Lexa will react. Clarke stays silent, her eyes fixating on the Commander training with a young female Nightblood. She rarely gets to witness the Commander being so gentle outside of their private quarters.

“I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Octavia mumbles when the blonde still doesn’t speak. “I just want to know if in the future I should look for you in the Commander’s room.”

A huff blows out Clarke’s nose before responding gruffly, “Sometimes in mine, sometimes in hers.”

Octavia peeks around them to check that no one is in earshot, “I can’t believe that you’re doing the Commander.”

The girl’s laughter is cut off by a death glare from Clarke, she raises her hands up in defeat. “I told you I promise I won’t say anything. She saved me and Lincoln and gave us a giant room. I have no reason to want to upset her.”

“How does it feel?” Clarke swallows away her defensiveness, “To be recognized as Trikru again?”

“It feels good,” Octavia bobs her head, “If feels right, you know? Like I’m home.”

The emptiness expands wider in her heart; she doesn’t know what the feels like. Clarke watches Lexa twirling the blunt stick as she blocks the young Nightblood’s blows.

“How do you feel about everything?” Octavia asks considerately, detecting the subtle mood change from Clarke. Something laced with desolation and uncertainty. 

“Still worried about them, I don’t know why.” She shakes her head and bites the inside of her lip. “I’m more worried about my mom and Kane than anyone else.”

“At least your mom and Kane have each other.” The unconfident words come out as a weak attempt to comfort Clarke.

Visons of her mom being thrown in a cell behind Kane shakes Clarke down to her bones. Her mom could meet the same fate as her dad did for attempting to protect their people against corruption. _How can she check on her mom?_ It’s apparent that returning to Arkadia is no longer an option. Then she recalls the day that she and Lexa found the slaughtered army, with Indra the only one alive. “Do you know if Indra still has that radio?”

“I think she might…why?” Octavia twists her body a degree to scrunch her eyebrows together at Clarke.

“If she does, I can use it to check on my mom and try to get some of those answers about the City of Light and Polaris for Lexa.” Her voice picks up with a little optimism and a sense of purpose. Having a chance to speak with her mom will make Clarke feel productive and actually useful.  

“She might be a little hesitant if she thinks it’s because you’re helping Skaikru. But, if Lexa needs those answers she will give it to you.”

“Do you know where she has been staying?”

“In a tent not too far off of her,” Octavia tilts her head to the right corner of the city a head of them. “I can take you to her.”

As the two stand to leave, the Commander approaches them, her face and neck shining with beads of sweat. “Octavia, would you like to train with one of the Natblidas? Your skills can use improvement as theirs can.”

The girl purses her lips in mild offense, “I was going to take Clarke to Indra to see if she still has the radio that we gave her.”

“I wanted to try to contact my mom to check if she is okay. I could also ask about the City of Light situation and Polaris.” Clarke explains when she is met with perplexed green eyes that have crinkles of concern in them.

Unnecessary anxiety over Clarke roaming the streets with Octavia settles uneasily into Lexa’s stomach. Nevertheless, having contact with her mother is presumably important for Clarke and could give her a chance to get answers sooner. The Commander nods, “Very well. Maybe another day, Octavia?”

“Sure, Heda.” Octavia bites the words out of her mouth, aware she should be more grateful towards the Commander for saving her and Lincoln. Since TonDC and Mount Weather, she still can’t put her full trust in her.

When the Commander retreats back to the group of Nightbloods, Clarke and Octavia climb down the short stone staircase on the side, leading down to the streets of Polis. A minute later, additional footsteps thump behind them. They guardedly peer over their shoulders to find two young Nightbloods following them. Their intimidating glowers force the Nightbloods to shrink down.

The dark-haired boy with streaks of dirt covering his cheeks from training, grips his sword and struggles to speak assertively. “Heda requested that we escort you to General Indra’s.”

“Of course she did,” Octavia mumbles under her breath.

Clarke shoots Octavia a glare from under her eyelids then sighs and softens her demeanor at the young kids hanging their heads, “what are your names?”

The auburn haired girl speaks up, her hazel eyes lifting from the ground at Clarke’s kindness. “Alista.”

“Liam.” He straightens his posture, his voice still quivering with a lack of confidence and his fingers tighten around his sword.

Clarke smiles, slowing her strides to let their shorter legs to catch up. “I’m sorry you guys had to miss training to do this.”

“It’s okay Wanh-Clarke,” Alista corrects herself hastily, her wide eyes snapping to Clarke’s face. “This is part of our Heda training too.”

Octavia pushes at Clarke’s left shoulder to get her to turn right down a congested street. There are a couple street vendors, selling food to those that live nearby. Private tents are nearly on top of each other, leaving little to no room for personal space.

“Octavia kom Trikru!” Indra announces with a proud smile when the brunette draws open the flaps of her tent. The woman’s smile quickly drops into a stern straight-lipped expression, “Wanheda.”

The bitterness to the woman’s tone doesn’t surprise Clarke in the least, Indra has never been a huge admirer of her. “Sorry to bother you Indra, but do you still have that radio Kane gave to you?”

Dark eyes twitch in crossness, “do you need it to contact your people that continue to spill my people’s blood?”

“You know I don’t support any of that. I only want to know if my mom and Kane are still alive, they are the only hope for Skaikru. Besides, there are some answers the Commander needs regarding the City of Light and another important matter that they could provide.”

The cold eyes perk up a touch at the mention of the City of Light. After a moment of consideration, the woman steps over to the other side of her fur-cot and ruffles through a pile of her belongings. She stretches out her injured arm to return the radio back to Clarke. “Don’t try to contact them here. I don’t want others to overhear and think of me as a traitor.”

Clarke resists rolling her eyes at such a ridiculous assumption, as if she would be dumb enough to radio Skaikru with so many Grounders within earshot. “I was going to wait to be in private with the Commander.” A heavy awkward silence engulfs the small group; Clarke’s eyes drop back onto the sling across Indra’s body. Nearly mirroring hers, except that injury was her people’s fault. Bellamy to be exact. “How’s your arm doing? Is the wound healing okay?”

“It is healing fine, Wanheda. No thanks to Skaikru,” Indra hisses, her white teeth showing against her lips. “I should be asking the same of you. You should be more careful in your...situation.”

The implication stops Clarke’s heart, the blame for that day resonates back in her bones. She glances back at the Nightbloods standing closely behind her, their backs erect and chins raised up. Not showing a sign of understanding the current exchange or suggestions.

“Indra, neither of those are Clarke’s fault.” Octavia defends her friend. “Especially Skaikru attacking the army, that destroyed all the peace that Clarke attempted to make on behalf of her people. Blame my brother, blame Pike but don’t blame Clarke.”

“I suppose you are right,” Indra stares down her nose at Octavia then moves her eyes to Clarke. “I am sorry, Wanheda. I fear for my people; we have loss many at the hands at Skaikru.”

“I know; I don’t want there to be any more losses. The Commander and Octavia need you. Skaikru will see justice in one way or another. Their fight may be over, but our fight for peace has just begun.” With that Clarke extends her arm, as she has with Anya and Lexa, for the traditional Grounder shake. This one is an attempt of peace and truce between the two of them. Indra stares hard down at the out stretched arm. After some thoughts of deliberation, Indra grips Clarke’s left forearm and intensely holds her eyes.

* * *

 

Lexa wanders into Clarke’s room behind her after they finished eating with the others. On the side table sits a thick rectangular black box with a small elliptical object. “Have you got in contact with your mother, Clarke?”

“Uh, no,” Clarke follows her line of vision. “I figured that could wait until tomorrow. I thought you might want to be there also, to ask your questions.”

“You’ve been worried about her and I’m sure she has been worried about you.” Lexa nods down to the sling. “I don’t wish to intrude on that. Tomorrow, if you are able to contact her, my questions can wait.”

Clarke smiles at her thoughtfulness and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Lexa’s mouth. The taller woman’s eyes flutter shut at the simple caress. “I haven’t had a bath since before this happened,” the blonde lifts her sling away from her body. “So, I should probably take one.”

Lexa nods, “I suppose I need one too, the Natblidas wore me out during their training today. When you’re finished, you can come back to my quarters or I can come back here. If you wish to spend the night together again.” Her eyes skirt away as the words nervously fumble out of her mouth. 

“I have a better idea,” Clarke husks out, her hand grasping Lexa’s. “Why don’t you stay here and join me for a bath? I could use the extra help anyways since I still don’t have full function of my arm.”

The offer causes Lexa’s heart to stutter against her chest and her breathing tangles in her throat. Lexa’s mouth falls open to push a sentence out, “I will notify my handmaid to fetch my sleepwear and have it brought here.”

Her fingers reluctantly slip from Clarke’s to open a door and order the closest guard, “tel daeria bilaik ai gaf in ai natpudon hir.  Em hofli min op en bants em bag.”

“Sha, Heda,” the guard dips his head respectfully.

After shutting the door, Lexa sucks in a shaky breath and turns around to see that Clarke has already moved to the bathroom.  While she is still sticky with residual sweat from training with the Natblidas, she can feel palms starting to sweat as she advances towards the bathroom and hears the water splashing into the tub. Something about this is making her exceedingly nervous, she doesn’t know why. They have already been intimate with each other and have shared a bed every night since.

When she reaches the open-door bathroom, Clarke is wrapping her arm around to undo the sling tie at the base of her neck. Lexa jumps over to catch the cloth as the sling drops away. She folds it neatly and places it on the round stool near the tub. The buckles on the Commander’s coat deliberately snap open as Clarke struggles with only her left hand, Lexa’s fingers brush against Clarke’s as she helps her with the straps. As soon as the fourth buckle snaps open, Lexa shrugs her shoulders out and allows it to drop to the floor. The small gap between them closes when their lips eagerly press together while Lexa pinches the metal zipper of Clarke’s jacket between her fingers and drags it down. The metal flap hits the nub at the end, Lexa leans away and carefully helps Clarke out of the sleeves. Slender fingers reach out to trace the supple skin of Clarke’s chest and shoulders. The woman’s torso is only hidden by a black bra, Lexa can feel goosebumps popping up under her fingers. Clarke tugs Lexa’s top out of her pants then grips the hem of it to pull it up her body, but a hand on her wrist stops her. Instead, Lexa yanks her own top over her head, aware that the upward motion would have likely hurt Clarke. Both of them strip their own remaining articles of clothing. Lexa assists Clarke with unwinding the tight bandages over her chest and shoulder, tossing them aside. The swelling and redness from the other day has dissipated almost completely into a healing process that appears normal.

Before they climb into the tub, Clarke squeezes the Heda adornment between her fingers and removes it from between Lexa’s eyebrows. The action brings Lexa’s mind back to the day they fell into bed together. _Clarke whispered, “you’re only Lexa, right now.” As she pinched between her eyebrows, removing the last piece of Heda._  

The enormous tub comfortably fits both of the women, they take spots in either sides. Their bare legs grazing against each other generates electrifying shots through their skin. A shy smile spreads up on the right side of Lexa’s face while she undoes the braids in her hair. Once the braids are untangled, she runs her fingers through her hair to smooth the waves around her shoulder.

“I love your hair like that,” Clarke’s compliment lengthens Lexa’s shy smile and she dips her head away from the blush she senses creeping up her neck.

Lexa’s eyes are mesmerized by the candle light flickering off Clarke’s pale skin, sparkling with beads of water as she finishes soaping her arms. Clarke is mindfully not sinking in too deep to keep the area around the stitches dry.

“Come here, let me help you.” Lexa breathes hesitantly when she notices Clarke struggling to reach certain parts of her body due to limited movement.

Clarke smiles appreciatively and glides across the tub to scoot herself between Lexa’s open legs. A soft moan escapes her lips when she leans back against Lexa’s front. “I just need to avoid getting the incision wet.”

Lexa nods, taking the bar of soap in her hand and brushing blonde hair aside to reveal her back. Four long streaks scar the back of her left shoulder. Without thinking, Lexa trails her fingertips over the raised rough tissue.

“That’s from the panther,” Clarke clarifies the curious fingertips against her skin.

“It got you good,” Lexa mumbles then presses her lips to the mark.

“Yeah, but I won.” Clarke quips with a smirk and a quirk of her eyebrow as she inclines into Lexa’s tender touch.

The pride in Clarke’s voice forces a mirroring grin on Lexa’s face, “You did.” Clarke defeating a panther with only a dagger should not come as a huge surprise when she also saved her from the radioactive pauna. In that moment, the Commander felt weak because she was unable to defeat the pauna- she was nearly defenseless and useless.

Lexa cups her hands under the water to pour some over Clarke’s hair then strokes her hands through, trying to spread the moisture to the ends. After performing this four times, the blonde hair has darkened with the absorbed water. Her strong fingers massage shampoo into her scalp, spending more time on the base of her scalp.

 “Octavia knows about us,” Clarke whispers, only the rubbing and brushing of her hair murmurs through the air.

Lexa instinctively stiffens behind her then sucks in a long breath. Leading Clarke to explain apprehensively when there is no immediate reply. “Murphy told her what Titus was saying to me while he was shooting at me and how we were interacting after.”

“And you still trust Octavia?”

“Yes.”

“I take it as Lincoln is aware as well?”

“I don’t know;” her nose scrunches and turns her head sideways to see Lexa out of the corner of her eye. “Octavia hasn’t mentioned that. I think Indra might know.”

A breath releasing from Lexa’s lips pushes her cheek bones up in a faint smile at the woman’s obliviousness as to why Indra has been cold towards her. “Indra has had her speculations for a while now. At least speculation that I care for you.”

“I’m sorry.” Clarke blinks several times, leaning her head back against Lexa after she finishes rinsing her hair.

“Don’t be. I’m not upset that they know. However, the more people know, the more I worry for your safety.” The soft voice catches with sudden emotion, the memory of Clarke falling to the floor and gun shots echo in her head. She gazes down at the woven stitches below her right collarbone, her heart twinging at the sight still. “I trust Lincoln to protect you that’s another reason I appointed him as my Fleimkepa. Unlike Titus, he doesn’t see love as weakness. I don’t want any more Natblidas to be taught that love is weakness.”

The last part draws a smile on Clarke’s lips and her chest to fill with warmth, she is still in disbelief to how much Lexa has changed in the months she has known her. “You’re going to make a lot of changes for your people.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:   
> tel daeria bilaik ai gaf in ai natpudon hir. Em hofli min op en bants em bag: Tell Daeria that I want my nightgown here. She may enter and leave it on the bed.


	7. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke attempts to make contact with her mother through Indra's radio. Meanwhile, Lexa has an important conversation with her new Fleimkepa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this update took longer than normal! I was up visiting my girlfriend but now I'm back with this chapter in time for 3 months without Lexa :(

Following breakfast, Clarke returns to her empty room alone. Lexa is in a meeting with the Clan Ambassadors and her Generals to discuss the blockade and Skaikru. No good could ever come out of that, certainly Octavia’s name will be hissed several times. Especially by Azgeda, probably not as harsh as _Wanheda_ is hissed but still with an obvious distaste. She should have invited Octavia to her room, to avoid the loneliness and isolation from setting in; but Lexa is right, she needs to talk to her mom alone first.

She lowers onto the large sofa seat with the radio directly in front of her on the table. Her palms sweat lightly when she picks up the speak in her left hand, _what if Pike answers? Or Bellamy?_ She needs to take this chance. Her thumb presses down on the button on the side, bringing the microphone to her lips, “Mom?”

Silence.

“Mom, it’s me. Are you there?”

The only sound that can be heard is the faint whine of the radio connection. No voices or recognition from the other end.

“It’s Clarke. Is anyone there?”

The speaker slips an inch in her sweaty palm, her heart sinking at the prolonged silence. Maybe there is no one there and she is just speaking into emptiness.

“Clarke? Clarke? Is that you?” Her heart jumps back up in her chest when she hears her mother’s voice finally come through.

“Yes, mom. I’m here.” She tightens her grip around the hard plastic speaker. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, for now. Are you okay? I have been worried sick since Octavia and Murphy told me you were shot! What the hell happened, Clarke?’

Clarke clicks the button on the side to respond, but her brain catches up with her mouth before she reveals too much. She can’t go there, not yet. “There was a... misunderstanding with Titus, Lexa’s Fleimkepa.”

“A misunderstanding?” Her mom scoffs with a sharp cutting undertone. “A misunderstanding that got you shot and almost killed? I thought the Commander was supposed to be protecting you.”

 “This was not her fault, mom. Titus shot at me because he was angry at Lexa for not declaring war on Skaikru. Lexa left me in control of his fate, I chose to banish him.”

“I still don’t know if I can trust her after that.” Abby responds instantly as if she didn’t listen to a word that her daughter said.

“Well I do,” Clarke states defensively. “And you should too.”

The other end is quiet for a moment before her mom changes the touchy subject, “did Octavia and Lincoln make it safely? They left a couple of days ago with Indra, we just haven’t heard anything.”

“They are more than safe,” Clarke informs her mom proudly. “Lexa appointed Lincoln as the new Fleimkepa to replace Titus. And Octavia is recognized as Trikru now. She no longer wished to be affiliated with the people there.” Gradually her voice falls resentful, remembering those responsible for this situation.

“I figured that would be the case. What about you?”

The question catches her off guard, she hadn’t suspected that her mom was aware that she was doubting her loyalties. Her mom must have picked up on the bitterness and resentfulness glaring through her voice. Clarke holds down the button with her mouth open but nothing comes out. She releases the button; her eyes fall shut as her mind battles itself. “How is everything there? Is Kane okay?”

“Marcus is fine...for now. Thankfully he wasn’t sentenced to death. We just need to get him out of there. Pike is gaining too much power. And people are in the City of Light or something.”

Clarke grins, she can practically hear her mom rolling her eyes as she mutters about the City of Light. “I know, Octavia told me about the City of Light situation. Lexa has some questions for you about that and…Polaris”

“Polaris?” Her mom’s voice perks up. “As in the Thirteenth station from the Ark?”

“Yes. The escape pod is here in Polis, Murphy found it actually. I saw it, it’s really it.”

“Wow,” her mom draws out the vowel, “I mean I guess it is possible. I knew that one woman escaped before the thirteenth station was blown up. I just didn’t imagine she could have made it. Or whatever happened.”

“What did happen, mom?”

“I know bits and pieces, Jaha or Kane know better than I do. I suppose I can ask one of them and I can tell the Commander if you need me to.”

“Please, the information will benefit both ends.” It is evident from her mom’s displeased tone that speaking with Lexa is going to be a chore.

A couple clicks of the radio and pensive taps of fingers come before her mom gives in. “Give me a couple of hours to talk to them. Can I radio you back once I’m alone again?”

“Yes, I’ll let Lexa know.”

“Be safe, Clarke. You have to look out for yourself.”

* * *

 

As Farho leaves the room with a final huff and stomp of his feet, the Commander rises from her throne. “Lincoln.” The cleanly shaven man turns towards her, the light beard is now gone from his face and he has replaced his old worn down clothing with fresh ones from Polis. “Have you finished reading the Fleimkepa book?”

“Yes, Heda. I spent last night reading it.” He slips the brown book out of his new dark maroon jacket. “I knew much about the workings of the conclave because of…” Lincoln stops himself before _that_ name tumbles out of his mouth. A name that is rarely muttered by anyone, especially around their Heda.

“Luna,” the Commander finishes for him, her eyes averting to an empty seat on the right side of the room. It’s been years since she has allowed that name to roll off her tongue.

The muscles in Lincoln’s neck tense, giving a shake and uncertainty to his voice, “Yes. She told me while she was in training. I had more questions regarding the flame.”

The Commander’s chin lifts up and intersecting Lincoln’s attentive eye, silently urging him to continue. “The flame, it’s the Commander’s spirit?”

“Sha. It’s how the Commanders’ spirit is passed on and how we connect with the Hedas that came before.”

He flips open the book to a page marked with a thin black string, drawings of a chip with the infinity symbol cover the pages. “How does it work?”

“The Flame?”

Lincoln nods, his eyes respectfully centering back on the Commander and leaves the book open in his hand to refer back to the notes for necessary clarification.

“They communicate with me, usually through dreams or when I meditate.” As expected, Lincoln’s eyes glaze over in a state of disbelief or confusion.  “They give me guidance. Mostly, I feel their memories, you could say. Some can be a bit unclear. In my dreams I can usually see them.”

“And this will choose the next Commander as the conclave?”

“Yes. Aden will most likely succeed me, he is the most promising Natblida.”

A smile broadens across his face, recognizing the potential in the young Natblida yesterday. “The boy has strong combat skills for his age. He will be an excellent warrior and Heda, if that day is to come.”

In her head, the Commander alters the if to when. That day will come. “Are there any other questions that you have? Do you understand the Natblida training process?” She spins around, rolling her head to indicate Lincoln to follow her out on to her balcony.

“I think I understand their needs and expectations during their Heda training.”

The streets of Polis are bustling far below them; citizens appear as small as ants weaving through the markets from vendor to vendor. “No more jus drein jus daun.” With that, the Commander twists her head to her Fleimkepa admiring the view next to her, waiting until he meets her eye. “After my death, this new way must be passed on to achieve our goal of lasting peace.”

“Jus nou drein jus daun,” flows loftily through his upturning lips as he holds the Commander’s penetrating green orbs.

Another matter that she wishes to speak to Lincoln with fills her mind. She rips her eyes away from him, feeling exposed already. “In your readings you came across ‘ _love is weakness’_?”

“Yes,” is spoken weaker than usual.

“And you don’t agree with that?”

He clears his throat to shove potency back into it, “I have always seen love as strength, Heda. But-“

“Good,” her voice cuts him off sharply. “I wish that love is weakness is no longer taught and instilled in the Natblidas. That is not something I wish to carry onto the future.”

Lincoln’s eyes shoot back to the Commander’s face, unsure if he heard correctly. The tenseness of her jaw and her eyes fixated away from him in the distance confirm the uneasiness of this request. “The Natblidas will no longer be taught that love is weakness, Heda. I will make notes of my teachings in the book.”

“This leads to another matter I must discuss with you.” She swallows hard, sensing Lexa slip through the Commander. “Clarke is special to me,” comes out as a soft whisper.

His eyes amplify at the admission, yet does not appear overly surprised. He speaks each word cautiously, seemingly worried that he could cross a line or unleash the menacing Commander from Lexa. “Is that why Titus….”

“Yes,” she answers quickly before she has to hear accusations. _Is that why Titus shot Clarke? Attempted to kill her? Because you love her?_ The voice torments in her head, churning the culpability in deep pits of her stomach “He saw love as weakness. And that Clarke was clouding my judgement, that she was a bad influence on me. Do you believe Clarke to be a weakness of mine?’

“No, Heda.” He shakes his head, forcing himself not to drop his head and shrink back at the distantly accusatory tone. “I believe she has challenged you as a leader and given you the courage to change the harsh ways of our people. Both of you have made brave decisions as leaders.”

Lexa regains some of her composure as the Commander when she forces her shoulders back to stand tall and stare intimidatingly at Lincoln. “Unlike Titus, will you protect Clarke?”

“As you ordered me to at Mount Weather.” Lincoln answers without missing a beat, backing Lexa’s memory to that day. During their march to the Mountain she sent for Clarke, thinking that the leaders should march together. The other part of her needed Clarke by her side, to be near her and protect her. When she was forced to find another way into Mount Weather and leave Clarke’s side, she only trusted Lincoln to keep her safe.

The Commander returns to staring out over the dark forest trees and mountains in the distance. “Clarke’s life comes before mine. As my Fleimkepa you protect the flame, Clarke and then me. I need you to swear it to me, Lincoln.” Her eyes snap back to him, conveying the seriousness of her demand.

“I vow to protect Clarke Griffin with my life.” He bends his head and drops his shoulders in a bow, practically mirroring the oath that Lexa had requested from the Natblidas.

Rotating back to overlook Polis, the Commander nods in acceptance of his vow. “Mochof, Fleimkepa. For now, my…relationship with Clarke stays private. Octavia and Indra are aware, but until matters settle with Arkadia, I do not wish to endanger Clarke anymore. Being Wanheda and a member of Skaikru make her a target as is.”

“I would never reveal your private life without your permission. As Commander, you deserve privacy as well.”

_Does she deserve this privacy? The Commander is supposed to belong to their people._ This is not a struggle that Lexa wishes for future Commanders, as long as they can separate feelings from duty. She barely turns her head, only peering at Lincoln out of the corner of her left eye. “The Natblidas will be looking for you. If you plan on doing combat training with them later, you may bring Octavia. Her skills could be refined since Indra is currently unable to teach her. It will be good for the Natblidas to observe you and Octavia interact as you teach them love is strength.”

His eyes sparkle under the compliment and he grins, “Mochof, Heda.” After lowering his head respectfully, Lincoln leaves Lexa alone on the balcony.

Shortly after, the Commander departs her throne room. In the open hall, Lincoln’s back is to her as he engages in a conversation with someone she doesn’t need to see. The raspy voice had carried into her ears before she reached the doors and had her stomach flipping. After a squeeze on her shoulder, Lincoln steps around Clarke to proceed down the hall.

“Hey,” Clarke says once their gazes converge and Lexa moves forward, her eyes dropping to the plate pilled with food in Clarke’s hand. “I went down to the markets to get some lunch and I didn’t know if you had eaten yet, so I got you some.”

Lexa smiles, accepting the plate being offered to her, having to resist the urge to peck her lips. “Thank you that was very thoughtful of you.”

“Are you done with meetings for the day?”

Lexa nods, strolling towards the stairwell to the left. “Speaking with Lincoln was my last one. Were you able to contact your mother?”

The heart felt green eyes gazing at her prompts Clarke that Lexa is asking her, not the Commander. “Yes, we talked for a bit. She left to go talk to Kane and Jaha to gather information on Polaris, so that she could talk to you about it.”

“Thank you, Clarke. I hope this information will benefit both our people.”

“Me too, my mom said she would try to radio us back in a couple of hours. We should probably wait in my room for her to call back. Unless you would rather have the radio be moved to your room?”

“Your room is fine, Clarke.”

They reach the top of the winding stairwell and hang a right down the corridor. A tingle runs up Lexa’s right arm when their hands accidentally graze against each other. The discreet bashful smile on Clarke’s lips and the nearly empty corridor gives Lexa the courage to nudge her pinky against Clarke’s to hook them together.

“How were your meetings?” Clarke asks, trying to slow her stuttering heart that was spurred by the unexpected touch. The guards by Lexa’s room don’t dare to glance at them as they pass by.

“As expected.” Lexa breathes out, as if she is bored simply thinking about the meetings. “Uneventful.”

“Really?” An eye brow arches as Clarke looks over at Lexa, unhooking their pinkies from each other “Nothing from the ambassadors about Octavia?”

Before Clarke has the chance to, Lexa holds the door open for her. “There were a few, all from Azgeda. Like I said, as expected.”

Amused smirks split across both of their faces while the door slides shut behind Lexa. Clarke bites down lightly on her lip, a small laugh bubbling through. It’s a rare occurrence to hear the Commander make light of things, an opportunity that Clarke has been graced with more and more.

Clarke settles down on the smaller of the two sofa chairs, watching as Lexa sets down the plate of food on the table next to the radio to strip off her commander gear. A quiet growl rumbles in Lexa’s stomach as she plops down to begin eating. With the first bite of the golden potatoes, Lexa knows exactly which vendor they are from. An older woman named Niola has been cooking food at the same spot, not too far away from the tower, for as long as she can remember. It was Ayna’s favorite, after a day of training they would go there together. The potatoes were always crisp with a light dash of rosemary. Lexa glances up to see Clarke undoing the sling from around her neck.

“How are you feeling?”

“A lot better, the pills have been helping.” Clarke carefully lifts her right arm away from her body, testing her range and ability. “I think that I can take my arm out of the sling at least.”

Lexa’s eyes flicker from Clarke’s cautiously bending arm, up to her face, surveying the movement and any signs of discomfort. There is an instinctive urge to interject with questions about the certainty of her healing improvement. However, Lexa knows better; she would have taken the sling off herself days ago.  “Good, I’m glad it is healing.”

“Clarke?” Both of their eyes snap to the radio on the table between them.

Clarke yanks the speaker up to her face. “Yes, mom. Lexa is here with me.”

“Hello, Commander.” Every syllable is enunciated clearly and stiffly.

With a little hesitation, Clarke hands the speaker across the table to Lexa. “Just press here when you want to speak,” Clarke instructs by hoovering her finger over the side button.

Although Lexa observed Clarke using the foreign gadget, by pressing the rather large button on the side, something inside her instinctively knew. Almost like a distant memory of hers. “Hello, Abby. Thank you for agreeing to speak me.”

“Anything to help this situation, even if that means sharing information with the Commander who failed to keep my daughter safe.”

Lexa’s lips part as her jaw falls open, no sound come out as she holds the speaker in her hand. Her eyes droop, feeling heavy with guilt and inflicted pain.  She can’t even look at Clarke as the harsh self-blaming comes rolling back. _It’s her fault Clarke got shot. It’s her fault that Clarke could have died._

Clarke springs to her feet and pulls the speaker out of Lexa’s slacked grip. “Mom, I told you that this was not her fault. If anyone, blame Skaikru and Pike.” Her hand slides into Lexa’s as she drops down on the large sofa seat next to her.

A long moment passes before her mom sighs heavily, “You’re right, Clarke. I’m sorry, Commander. I have just been worried about my daughter.”

The Commander holds open her right palm, silently requesting the speaker from Clarke. “It is okay, Abby. Your anger is justified. Since the incident, I have increased the guards for Clarke to ensure her safety even more. As my new Fleimkepa, Lincoln has sworn to keep Clarke safe and protected.”

Clarke’s eyebrows raise, glancing over at Lexa’s profile as a thumb brushes over hers.  “I trust Lincoln to do so. I suppose Clarke is safer there than she is here.”

“Mom, did you learn anything about Polaris?” Clarke grabs back the radio, enough of them discussing her safety. There are far more important details to be discussed.

“I did. A woman named Rebecca used Polaris to escape the thirteenth station before it was blown up.”

“Becca…” Lexa mumbles, her eyes widen in revelation.

“She was--”

“Hold on, mom.” Clarke stops her when Lexa remains in apparent shock with unfocused pupils. “Lexa what is it?”

It takes a couple of seconds for Lexa to regather herself in the present. “Becca…she was the first Commander.” Her eyes glide up Clarke’s face. “She rarely talks to me but every once in a while she appears in my dreams.”

Without looking away from Lexa, Clark squeezes the device. “Becca was the name of the first Commander, tell us everything that you know.”

“Holy shit,” her mom mutters. “As I was saying, she was a scientist who was focused on building AIs. It is believed that one of her AIs went rogue and set off the nuclear bombs that created this world.”

All Lexa hears is _bombs_ as their stare morphs into equal disbelief. _AIs?_ The meaningless jumble of letters sounds vaguely familiar. Lexa blinks rapidly as a haze clouds over her green eyes. A burning sensation flares up the back of the Commander’s neck, her right fingers trace over area where the flame lies.

After giving them time to digest the information, Abby resumes, “on the day of the bombs, the thirteenth station refused to join the ark and that’s when Rebecca escaped in Polaris. It was presumed that she died when she got to Earth, but…”

“The Earth was actually survivable and she became the first Commander,” Lexa expands with a small incredulous shake of her head. Everything makes sense now. The large sketch in the sacred room, Becca descending from Polaris from the Sky. English being the natural language of the Commanders.

“What will this mean, Commander?”

Lexa nudges Clarke gently and the speaker is passed into to the Commander’s asking hand. “Clarke will be teaching the Nightbloods this new information so it will be passed down.” The couple shares a small knowing smile with each other that this will help _their someday_. “Some others might not take this information well; they will probably not believe it at first. I believe in the end it will help Skaikru be more accepted in the Collation if we are ever able to reach that point again.”

“I hope we are able to, we are doing what we can. I think they just need time to realize their mistake, hopefully. Now people are distracted by Jaha giving out these pills to the City of Light.”

_Like the one Murphy had. Is the pill a drug that mentally brings someone to the city of light?_ “What’s going on with that mom? Have you found out much about it?”

“I don’t really understand it. I just know that it’s not good, it’s eliminating essential characteristics of people. Raven can walk again. Jaha-.”

Clarke practically snatches the speaker back from Lexa. “Wait, Raven can walk? Is she healed? How is that possible?”

“She’s not healed, but the City of Light eliminates her pain. I fear for what it can do to her. It’s just not right. Jaha doesn’t remember Wells, Clarke,” her mom reveals solemnly. “It erases more than just physical pain.”

The name sinks Clarke’s heart and a nearly healed wound to be torn open, she somehow manages to push a, “what?”, through a constricted throat.

“Listen, honey,” Abby’s voice lowers to a whisper, “I hear Pike and Bellamy coming this way, I need to go.”

“Wait, mom!”

“I love you, Clarke. Commander, please keep my daughter safe.”

“I will this time, Abby.” A promise would sound meaningless, last time she had promised Abby that Clarke would be safe with her and she had failed. Two times. The slowly healing gash above her eyebrow is another painful reminder.

“Mom!” Clarke cries desperately.

The line remains silent, her mom isn’t coming back. Clarke releases Lexa’s hand and her face drops into both of her hands, a pit enveloping her stomach. _What if they heard their conversation? Would her mom be hurt? Be thrown in jail with Kane? Or worse?_

“Clarke,” Lexa whispers rubbing a hand along her thigh and the other up her back. “Your mom will be okay, she is strong and intelligent. You have the radio now, you can to talk to her if you continue to worry.”

Clarke’s nods against her palms then sits up with a deep breath sucking through her nostrils. Her head falls against Lexa’ shoulder within seconds. Lexa slides her arm up Clarke’s back to around her shoulders, drawing her closer. “If it makes you feel any better, we found out vital information about Polaris and Rebecca from her. She even had helpful information about the City of Light.”

“I can’t believe he forgot Wells,” Clarke mumbles. “It hurts but I could never forget him. I wouldn’t want to forget him.”

Lexa glimpses down at her and strokes her hair. “You cared for this one called Wells.”

“Yes.” Clarke can hear the slightest change in Lexa’s breathing. “But, not in the way you think.” Her head rises off her shoulder. “Wells was Jaha’s son, he was my best friend since I could remember as a little kid. We played together, I trusted him with everything.” The yelling and the screaming, the stab of betrayal rushes back. “Until I thought that he was the one who turned my dad in and got him float. Turns out that he was letting me think it was him and hate him instead of telling me that it was actually my mom who turned my dad in.” Tears begin leaking out of her eyes, her bottom lip barely quivers. “He let me hate him until it was too late. Once I forgave him, he was killed. I wasted so much time hating him and being mad at him.”

Lexa cups Clarke’s tear soaked cheeks and swipes at the streaming drops with her thumbs. “Wells sounded like a selfless, caring friend who cared for you more than he cared for himself. Remember, Clarke, death is not the end. One day you will meet again.”

A single sob heaves from Clarke’s chest and she rests back against Lexa. “I wasted so much time being mad at you. Hating you. What if I waited until it was too late with you?”

“You didn’t,” Lexa breathes in deeply, repressing the stinging tears behind her eyes. “We are here together right now, you can’t dwell on what if, Clarke. Even if you did stay angry, I would have never stopped loving you.”

Clarke shifts her head to peer into Lexa’s forest green eyes, only a few stray tears drip down on her face. Leaning in, her lips lightly graze over Lexa’s. Neither of their eyes open before their lips meet again and Clarke’s lips press harder with the built up emotion and neediness. A shaky hand reaches up to caress Lexa’s cheek and pull her mouth closer to deepen the kiss. Lexa’s hand glides up her back to between her shoulder blades, guiding her closer. Much to her dismay, Clarke’s lungs burn and she has to pull away, breathing in an unsteady breath. Lexa brushes strands of blonde hair, that are stuck to her damp face, behind her ear, allowing her fingers to trace back along her jaw. Clarke falls back against Lexa’s embrace; memories of Wells play in her head. With everything that was happening on the ground, she never had the chance to mourn his death.

“Can we just stay like this? For a bit?” Clarke pleads, scooting closer to the comfort and warmth of Lexa’s body.

Her left arm wraps back around Clarke’s waist, holding her tight. “We can stay like this as long as you like, hodnes”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> jus drein jus daun: blood must have blood
> 
> Jus nou drein jus daun: blood must not have blood
> 
> hodnes: love


	8. Here We Go Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa have a brief peaceful moment before they have to attend to their duties.

“So, the first Commander was officially a Sky Person? Is that what we’re saying?” Octavia questions again, crossing her arms and shifting her focus between the two women.

“Mhm,” Clarke hums back and the Commander nods, eyeing the Natblidas sparring in pairs on the training grounds.

“And Becca, this first Commander, is the one responsible for the bombs that went off? And created this?” Octavia’s cheeks scrunch up and she circles her head at their surrounds. Surroundings that were destroyed during the apocalypse then transformed into the world that is ruled by war and survival.

For some reason, accusing Becca for _this_ settles low into the Commander’s stomach; forming an uneasiness. It also makes her want to bawl her fists, blaming Becca is nearly the equivalent of blaming her for the bombs.

“Indirectly her fault,” Clarke corrects her. “It was that AI she built, it went rogue and it was ultimately out of her control.”

There is that word again, she blinks down at the dirt beneath her boots. When she looks back up, Lincoln is echoing her expression. His dark eyes glazed over, blinking rapidly with his thin eyebrows scrunched deeply together.

“AI…” Being more brave than her, Lincoln pronounces the letters deliberately and distinctly. “What is that?

Clarke and Octavia share a long look, their lips slightly parted. Both equally confused on how to explain such a foreign concept.

“It’s…” Clarke starts, rubbing the side of her neck, at a loss for an explanation. “A very advanced form of technology. It would be similar to a computer thi-.” The eyes of the two grounders are still glazed over, completely lost in her words. This would be an excellent time to have Raven or Sinclair around to explain, technology is not exactly Clarke’s area of expertise. “It would be similar to a machine, like the Mountain Men had, that could think on its own and make decisions.”

_How is that possible? What are these machines?_ The Commander hates not understanding, that is why they feared the Mountain Men. Their technology was far superior and now Skaikru’s technology is much more advanced than that even. The jumbles of letters and words make little sense. It’s aggravating but Lincoln holds the same expression that he had before, reminding the Commander that she is not alone in her perplexity.

Octavia is smirking at the puzzled looks on their faces and Clarke grins at them with a little amusement too but a touch of sympathy. “Maybe when this is all over, I will get Raven to properly explain this to you. I’m a healer, this not exactly my area of expertise. She would be able to explain it you better.”

“I would like that, Clarke. Thank you.” Lexa nods.

“Is all of this going to be taught to the Natblidas?” Octavia’s eyes flicker away from Lincoln to concentrate on the Commander.

“Yes, I was going to have Clarke teach them about Becca and Polaris. They will be the first to know the true history of our people.”

“If you want, you can help me, Octavia. You did use to be a Sky Person and the Natblidas,” Clarke’s hand gestures at the group of tiring young children, “they have gotten to know you, they will appreciate your teachings too.”

For a moment, Octavia stares at her with a contemplative expression. Her eyes quickly flicker to Lincoln then back to Clarke, “I suppose I could help the princess out.”

“Good,” Clarke attempts to smile after hearing that nickname, the condescending one.

A wind gusting through the trees, chills the air around them as the sun slowly falls in the sky. Lincoln wraps an arm around Octavia’s shoulders, tugging her close. Next to Lexa, Clarke has shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and is hugging her elbows close to her sides. There is a small pang of jealousy in Lexa’s chest as Lincoln and Octavia hold each other closer. She wishes that she could envelop Clarke in her arms like that too, in public, and not have to worry of consequences. _Maybe someday…_

“In celebration of this new discovery, let us dine with the Natblidas?” The Commander proposes, aware of the ever cooling air and the deceleration of training swords in her view.

The other three nod without a second though. Lincoln releases Octavia to approach the edge of the dirt training grounds, “Natblidas!” He claps with his bellowing voice to stop the clashing of swords and sticks. Within seconds, all eyes are on him. “Training is over for today, so you can dine with your Heda and I.”

Excited smiles spread across dirty and sweaty faces as they travel together off the grounds. Quiet giggles and young voices murmur behind them as the four of them lead the Natblidas into the tower.

* * *

 

Two hours later, Lexa retires to Clarke’s bedroom, that is being illuminated by the nearly full moon in the sky and the scattered candles.

“The Natblidas are a cute group of kids,” Clarke comments as she relights various candles that have burned out since this afternoon.

_Cute is not a word that Heda would describe her Natblidas._ “They are very well trained and disciplined, ready to take on being Heda upon my death.” She settles on one of the chairs once again, opting not to sit on the bed with assumptions. Her fingers work through the braids still in her hair, one of the last signatures of Heda she still wears. Prior to dinner, she had already removed the Heda outfit to leave her in midnight blue pants and a comfortable shadow grey top.

Clarke glares at her intently, through narrowed eyes and down her nose. “What have I said about you talking about your death?” The question is posed more lighthearted than the heaviness weighing down her heart.

A weak smile ticks up on Lexa’s lips, watching as Clarke ambles towards her after lighting the last burnt out candle. Clarke kneels down on the chair behind her, slipping her fingers into her loose braids to take over for Lexa’s stalled hands.

“Why do they call you princess?” Lexa asks, neatly folding her hands in her lap.

Out of Lexa’s mouth, it doesn’t sound so condescending. Almost sweet. Lexa can make anything sound endearing when directed towards her, even Wanheda doesn’t sound like the Commander of Death coming from her. “It’s just a stupid nickname that the hundred call me.”

“You don’t like it.” After hearing the subtle change in Clarke’s breathing and the murmur in her voice, Lexa doesn’t have to ask.

“They gave me that name because they thought I was privileged because my mom was involved with the hundred that were sent down here.” Her fingers unweave the last braid, removing the small bead and placing it on the nearest table.

“You will always be just Clarke to me,” Lexa whispers, turning her head back ever so slightly as Clarke’s fingers brush through some of the tangles on the back of her head.

The way that Lexa pronounces Clarke will always be her favorite. Once her hair is tangle free and Clarke’s hands drop away, Lexa sweeps her hair over her right shoulder, revealing the tattoo on the back of her neck.

“The sacred symbol of the Commander,” Clarke’s finger traces along the infinity loops. “I haven’t seen this one before. Do you have any more tattoos that I don’t know about?”

The electrifying touch of Clarke’s fingers buzzes through every inch of her skin. Thankfully that one doesn’t need a further explanation, not tonight anyways. “No, that’s it.” Lexa cranes her head back, her fingers combing the ends of her hair.  

Their eyes flutter to each other’s lips and lean in to meet each other in the middle. Upon the first touch, their lips move deliberately in sync, gently brushing each lip together. Clarke gradually adds pressure, feeling the vibration of a sharp inhale from Lexa. To match the increasing pace, Lexa only allows their lips to part for half a second to twist and face Clarke. A hand reaches up to grip the back of Lexa’s neck as tongues tease against lower lips. Soft groans bounce in each other’s mouths when their tongues finally meet. Pushing deep and tangling together.

Unable to ignore her pulsating desire anymore, Clarke’s hands dive to the hem of Lexa’s top to tug it up over body. A sharp pain stabs her collarbone when she jerks her arm too hard, she bites down on her lip to silence a grunt. As soon as her tops hits the ground, Lexa’s lips magnetize back to Clarke’s and Clarke’s hands smooth over Lexa’s bare shoulders.

Unlike their first time, Lexa regains some control over her trembling lips and her stable fingers pull the strings at the front of Clarke’s shirt, untying the four cross laces. Once the fabric hangs open, Lexa pushes the shirt off Clarke’s shoulders and down her arms. Her hands immediately run up Clarke’s sides and over her ribs, feeling the goosebumps form under her finger tips.

When Clarke starts to lean over Lexa to push her down on the chair, Lexa holds her waist firmly and stands up. Sapphire eyes have blackened with full blown pupils smoldering with desire. Clarke’s hands grasp Lexa’s face as she stands up to bring their open mouths back together. The hands on Clarke’s waist guide them towards the bed as they round to her back and run up to the clasp of her bra. Lexa’s bra is quick to follow right before Clarke’s knees hit the side of the bed and Clarke places her left arm behind her to ease them down. Below Lexa, Clarke jiggles her ankles to try to kick her boots off, bumping the side of Lexa’s leg. Lexa smirks against Clarke’s lips and slides off the bed to pull the boots off herself then fumbles with the straps on her boots to knock them aside.

In those brief seconds apart, the other girl has edged to the middle of the bed to impatiently wait with hooded eyes. Lexa crawls up the bed on her hands and knees to hoover over a half-naked Clarke, her hands on either side. Her eyes instantly fall on the stitches that are covered by a smaller bandage.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Clarke? I don’t want to— “

Already getting desperate for the girl above her, Clarke grabs her face to crash their lips together. “Lexa, I’m fine don’t worry.”

Lexa’s clouded desired head doesn’t need any more convincing than that, she captures the intoxicating lips once more and immediately runs her tongue over her lips to deepen the kiss. Their bare skin of their upper-halves press pleasurably together when Lexa dips down into her.

When Clarke grunts unpleasantly, Lexa shoots up, her eyes frantically swarming over face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just,” Clarke glances down to the weapon holsters around Lexa’s thighs. An accessory that she happens to find extremely attractive.

“Oh,” Lexa follows Clarke’s eye line and scrambles up. “Sorry, I forgot.”   Her cheeks darken with a blush as she stumbles over her words and her sweaty fingers slip on the iron.

Clarke sits up to help Lexa remove the one from her other thigh, remembering how she fumbled to get them off Lexa the last time. “It’s okay. They look really hot on you.”

The iron clanks to the floor and Lexa stares at Clarke blankly, her eyebrows stitched together. “Attractive. They look very attractive on you.” Clarke explains with a chuckle, surprising Lexa when she undoes her pants and drags the fabric down her long legs.

A heat spreads throughout her body as she kicks her pants to the side, still a little insecure and vulnerable under Clarke’s gawk. Even though she has seen her completely naked two times. Clarke lies back on the bed as Lexa reaches for the button and zipper on her pants then lowers them down her legs. Before they crawl back up the bed, Clarke pinches the Heda piece from between her eyebrows and tosses it on Lexa’s discarded pants.

Clarke’s hands trail up from the hip bone peeking out, up Lexa’s sides, feeling the muscles twitch and shudder and allows her hands come to rest on her flushed cheeks. After sharing devoted kisses and relishing in the sensation of skin pressed to skin, Lexa drops her lips to the underside of Clarke’s jaw. Clarke tilts her head back for more tender firm kisses down the side of her throat. Insecurities disintegrate when Lexa feels Clarke’s pulse fluttering rapidly against her lips. She breaks away from her path to brush kisses as light as feathers on the covered healing injury. Clarke lifts her head just enough to peer down at Lexa with an amorous smile then runs her fingers through the soft waves, her heart expanding in her chest. No one has made Clarke feel the fraction of love that Lexa does when they are in bed.

Before she knows it, Clarke is arching her chest into Lexa’s mouth, gasping. The worship endures with open caresses down her stomach and up her thighs, wordlessly expressing the passion and adoration pouring out of Lexa’s heart. Clarke’s thighs shake with anticipation as those soft lips get closer and closer.

“Lexa,” Clarke moans low in her throat when the flat of her tongue slowly strokes through her folds.

Lexa moves her tongue in shorter, quicker movements on her clit enticing sharper inhales and moans. As her tongue dips down to her opening to teasingly circle it, her hand smooths up the outside of Clarke’s thigh and down to replace her mouth. Being almost too considerate, Lexa wipes her mouth as she slides back up Clarke’s body and enters with two fingers.

“I love you,” Lexa whispers, brushing their lips together.

Returning kisses becomes messy and increasingly difficult as Lexa pumps her arm quicker and her long slender fingers reach deeper. Clarke clutches into the back of her neck and shoulder to secure herself down as the heat curls at her toes and floods up her body. Walls contract around Lexa’s fingers and pleasurable moans buzz against her lips. Her fingers pump slower inside to gently bring Clarke down. She places a soft kiss to the corner of Clarke’s mouth and cheek as she pulls out and slinks down onto her side next to Clarke.

When her breathing returns to normal and she regains control over her muscles, Clarke nudges Lexa onto her back. She traces a finger along the woman’s perfectly angled jawline as their eyes melt into each other. Their noses brush gently against each other when Clarke’s lips drop down into Lexa’s. One hand lightly holds the base of Clarke’s skull as kiss intensifies and Lexa’s right hand runs up the side of her lover’s arm. Needing the feel of skin and needing her closer.

Clarke sucks a little harder on Lexa’s neck this time, never too hard, but enough to feel the sharp intakes of breath shooting down her throat. As she peppers kisses along Lexa’s collarbones, her left hand cups her breast. Squeezing gently then rolling it. Her lips press between her breasts and down her sternum before giving them proper attention. Sucking and rolling a hardened nipple with her mouth and tongue to trigger whines and breathy gasps. Lexa’s hands grasp tighter on her head and arm, but never squeezes, as her body tingles with pleasure.

The toned muscles of her stomach flex and quiver beneath Clarke’s lips, not visibly shaking like last time when her emotions and nerves fell completely out of Lexa’s control. Before touching the very place that aches, Clarke teasingly runs her lips along the curve of her hip bone then finally kisses right below a swollen clit. An elongated relieved moan shakes out of Lexa’s throat. The hand, that was on the back of Clarke’s head, becomes restless as the tongue flickers quicker through her folds. She tries to control her lips from rocking with the movements against her; but, when the muscle presses against her opening and slips inside, her hips jerk up and whimpers.

As her tongue rolls inside, diving hard and deep enough to drive Lexa into an immersed state of bliss, Clarke’s nose bumps periodically on an over sensitive clit. Her eyes open to see Lexa’s abs tightening and her hand inching toward Clarke but then curling away. As if she is too shy or embarrassed to ask for Clarke’s hand. If she could, Clarke would break out in a grin. Instead, she reaches for Lexa’s hand, whose fingers are forced into the furs below, and laces them together.

Lexa doesn’t know why she needs physical contact like that, but she does. It anchors her when she senses herself losing control to the pleasure and emotions coursing from her toes to her neck. An uncontrollable moan bellows from her chest when Clarke curls her tongue and her nose bumps her bundle of nerves simultaneously that hurls her over the edge. She squeezes the knuckles beneath her fingers as lights spark under her closed eyes and a heat rushes up.

Clarke moves back up Lexa’s body to peck her lips tenderly. “I love you too.” She whispers into her ear. To give Lexa room to recover, Clarke wiggles under the sheets and furs then brushes stray hairs out of the green eyes gazing lazily at her.

This isn’t rushed. Not like last time when they both knew that Clarke had limited time in bed. Gradually, her breathing returns to normal and Lexa lifts up to slink under the sheets. Clarke’s arm circles around her waist, pulling her closer. Lexa snuggles her head an inch from Clarke’s, her fingers brushing back over the bandage.

“I can get the stitches out tomorrow probably. I’m going to ask a healer to do it since I shouldn’t do it myself.” Clarke answers the silent question that the fingers are asking.

Lexa nods, draping her arm around Clarke’s waist; mirroring her position. “Good. That might not be wise. We will send for a healer whenever you are ready.”

“How do we always end up in my bed?” A playful smile curls on Clarke’s lips and her eyebrows raise.

“Do you not like your bed, Clarke? Because I quite like it.”

Her eyes roll at the smirk on Lexa’s face. _Of course she likes it, it’s bigger and comfier than anything she has ever seen._ “I like my bed, Lexa. And I can see that you do too.” The growing smirk is accompanied by a light blush tinging the woman’s cheeks.

For a moment, Lexa shyly blinks her eyes down. “I reckon that I come here to spend more time with you then we end up here.”

“Not that I could ever argue with that, especially when I have you like this.” Clarke dips her eyes down the length over Lexa’s naked body under the covers. Then draws her closer, their foreheads pressing together.

In that moment, Lexa swears that she’s floating. “Or you simply seduce me into bed.”

“I don’t have to seduce you and you know that,” Clarke retorts that earns a rare giggle from the girl next to her.

“Clarke?” A voice statics through the radio startling the two women.

As grateful as she is to hear her mom’s voice again, the timing is not appreciated. “Hold on,” Clarke grumbles to Lexa, the cool air of her room stings her skin, eyeing her clothes scattered across the room.

“Are you there, Clarke?” Her mom demands a little more urgently this time.

Eventually, Clarke opts to steal the fur covers off the bed and wrap it around her goosebump ridden body. Lexa smiles when Clarke mumbles an apology, propping herself up on her right hand to admire the fur enveloped girl padding over to the radio.

“Yes, mom. Sorry, I’m here.” Clarke squeezes the radio in one hand and clutches the furs around her with the other.

“Thank god,” her mom groans with relief. “I don’t have much time, but I think Pike is going to try to attack the army.”

“What?” Her heart stops, her eyes dart up to see Lexa’s eyes widen and hop out of bed.

“I heard him talking with Bellamy, Hannah and the others on his side. I don’t know what to do Clarke.”

The silver grey sheet is wrapped around Lexa’s body and the remaining fabric drags on the floor behind her as she joins Clarke. Her jaw clenched and muscles much stiffer than there were only minutes ago. The couple share a weighted look, aware of the potential damage that it could inflict. Another peaceful moment together shattered due to their people.

Aware of Lexa’s obligations as Commander, Clarke simply nods and hands the woman the speaker. “I will warn the army of a possible attack. Blood will only be spilled if Pike’s army attacks.”

“Commander, I did not realize you were there.” Both women blush at Abby’s words, Lexa squirms uncomfortably against the sheets barely covering her body. She is never this exposed when attempting to act as Heda.  “I know you must be at the end of your patience with my people and there will be nothing that we can do to fix this. Please know that I am doing everything I can to stop those people.”

The Commander closes her eyes as she inhales deeply in thought, nodding her head once. “I know, Abby. As Commander, I have done what I can to enforce blood must not have blood. However, I cannot let Pike spill the blood of any more of my people. For those in disagreement of Pike, hide and be unarmed. If war happens, I will do everything in my power to spare the supporters of the Coalition.”

Tears are brimming in Clarke’s eyes, more blood will most likely will be spilled because of Skaikru. The blood of people she considers and use to consider friends and her people. Her mom. Kane. Bellamy at the forefront next to Pike. She bites her lip and stares away from Lexa.

“Thank you, Commander. Again, I’m sorry. I know how hard you and Clarke worked for Skaikru.”

The urge to shout and bawl her hands into fists is overwhelming until Lexa looks at Clarke’s defeated face. Blue eyes shimmering, her lips turned down. They both strive for peace and _jus nou drein jus daun_ but they are knocked down at every attempt.

“Clarke?” Her mom asks when the silence continues to stretch, Lexa hands the speaker back to Clarke then stands to gather her clothing.

“Yes, mom?”

“I need to go. I love you. Stay safe, please.”

The despondency in her mom’s voice drives a few tears to leak out of her eyes, “You’re the one that needs to stay safe. I love you too, mom.”

“May we meet again,” Abby’s voice falters over the words as the line goes dead.

The speaker drops from Clarke’s hand as a couple more tears escape her eyes, she wipes her palm over her face then stands. Lexa is practically fully dressed, only her abandoned top by the chair remains. Before picking it up, she walks over to Clarke to swipe her thumb over her cheek.

“I’m sorry about them,” Clarke whispers, unable to meet her eyes.

Lexa sighs, “It’s not your fault. Don’t be sorry.” Her hand drifts away from Clarke’s cheek so she can pick up her top and stretch it over her head.

_It is her fault though._ The reflexive voice, that she has been trying to fight, criticizes her again. Clarke’s eyes rake over the eloquent tattoo on Lexa’s back and the soft contours of her defined muscles. _She can’t focus on that. Not right now._

“What now?” Clarke questions, grabbing her own pants that are sprawled on the ground near the bed.

Lexa finishes adjusting her top then picks up Clarke’s top from the floor to bring it to her. “I will send a rider to notify the army that is there in case that Pike moves faster. Right now, I must call the ambassadors and generals to the war room to plan our defense.”

Hearing defense instead of attack is unexpectedly comforting to Clarke, to her that equates to less bloodshed. On both ends, hopefully. Clarke snaps the bra straps over her shoulders and Lexa clasps it for her in the back. “Okay, I will finish getting dressed and I will be there.”

“Clarke…” Lexa shakes her head. “You don’t need to, you shouldn’t. It’s— “

“The people, who are attacking aren’t my people.” Clarke turns to stare at Lexa fiercely. “And they have guns. I will be of more help, Lexa.”

This will not hold well with the Ambassadors and Generals; the news of a possible impending attack from Skaikru and Clarke being present will set off frustration directed at her. The worst case scenarios flash in her head. It takes a moment for Lexa to realize she’s being too over protective right now and that Clarke had a valid point. “Okay. Collect Lincoln and Octavia on your way. I will meet you there,” she kisses Clarke’s cheek before hurrying out of the bedroom. 

* * *

 

A map of the blockade and Arkadia is sprawled across the wooden table and the Commander is hunched over it with Indra beside her. Mapping out key locations to hide or gather. The ambassadors and generals have begun arriving, all muttering and hissing questions or ‘ _I knew this would happen.’_

“Do we know what direction they will attack us from?” Indra probes gruffly, glimpsing up at the Commander but then back to the ink on the map.

The Commander’s fingers compress harder against the table and she shakes her head. “No, we have to be prepared for all possibilities.”

“Ai biya yu disha na kom au,” Farho storms in with his finger pointing at the Commander and the Azgeda General behind him. “We all did. What now Heda?”

His words don’t faze her, but she stiffens up her bent over spine and glowers at the two men. “Defend ourselves. Blood will not be spilled without a fight.”

“A fight that should have happened once they spilled our blood the first time.” He slams a fist on the table, his yellowing teeth barred against his bottom lip.

Kicking Farho off her balcony too is a thought that often crosses her mind. Right now, she doesn’t have time for this. A war needs to be planned.

“You will respect your Heda.” Indra growls next to her, glaring up from the map.

The ambassador huffs disgruntled and mutters under his breath to the general next to him, who sneers and snickers.

“Skaikru weapons, Heda.” The Sangeakru General states diplomatically.

As if on cue, Clarke strides into the War Room with Lincoln and Octavia, trailed by several remaining clan ambassadors and generals. The room falls silent as the eyes glue to Clarke and linger warily on Octavia.

“Wanheda,” the Azgeda spins around, slithering a few inches towards her. Lexa seethes inside, not allowing it to break through her Heda mask. Instead, she glares at the back of his head and with her hand gripping the sword hooked into her belt.

Her first instinct is to stumble back under the man’s blaring glare but she puffs her chest out and stares back confidently. Next to Clarke, Lincoln and Octavia have their stances ready and stepped closer.

“Wanheda has no place here. Her people attack us.” He peers over Lincoln and Octavia protectively hoovering near Clarke, his lip snarls then he snaps back to the Commander. “We have every reason to attack her right now!” Others in the room nod and mumble in agreement, warily observing the interaction.

Lincoln steps between Clarke and the ambassador as a precaution. The gun tucked into Clarke’s jacket burns into her skin, but she doesn’t dare reach for it.

“Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op!” The Commander’s voice roars, her eyes cutting through those surrounding the table. “Wanheda is here to help us, she does not agree with the army that is choosing to attack our people. However, they have guns and she has the knowledge to help.”

It takes a couple of long seconds for the ambassador to consider the Commander’s words, scowling at Clarke with distrusting eyes. He turns back to the table, his jaw skewed to the side, displeased but accepting. The Commander scans around the table, a majority of the clans seem compliant, presumably frightened by battling against guns. A couple wear a disgruntled face, not wanting anything to do with Skaikru.

The Commander lands back on tentative blue orbs, giving her a nod to stand with her. Lincoln and Octavia walk close on her heels as Clarke rounds the table to the Commander’s side. Unlike the first time she commanded a room with Lexa, she is not viewed as an ally but as an enemy. An enemy, who has repeatedly slaughter their people and is on the verge of another war with them again. Her hands sweat at the many pairs of intimidating eyes staring at her.

“The army that is planning to attack is Pike’s army, the same one that attacked the peaceful army about two weeks ago. I don’t know how many march with him but I do know that they have guns and that will give them the advantage.”

“How do we stand a chance against their weapons? They effortlessly killed an army of three hundred!” Ni, the Delphi ambassador, exclaims with distress rather than infuriation.

“They attacked us in our sleep, like the cowards that they are.” Indra hisses on the other side of the Commander. “We could have at least put up a fight if we were awake.”

“You have the numbers to your advantage,” Clarke interjects with a little positivity. “You have armies from twelve clans. They barely have an army of half of one of your clans.”

Ni nods slowly, absorbing the information then scans around the table as the others lose their sharp edge at the encouragement. “They will attack in one big group; they won’t spread out because they know that way they will for sure lose. Your armies need to be prepared for a heavy onset attack.” Clarke continues in a blunt but informative tone.

“We will need to use our archers to our benefit, take out as many as we can before they can start firing.” Chel discusses with a hand on his chin and making eye contact with the respective clans across the table.

“Archers will need to be positioned high in the trees and low to the ground, out of vision. We know the ground better than Skaikru.” The Commander instructs, gaining back control over the discussion.

“Which direction do you believe that they will come from?” Caris directs the question at Clarke.

The Commander points out Arkadia on the map for Clarke, who traces over the area, visioning the gate and the surrounding area. “Here are the gates of Arkadia,” she taps on the table. “I predict that they will stay straight on course and attack the first grounders they see. Most likely towards the north west.”

“When I was still in Arkadia,” Octavia speaks cautiously. “Pike rarely ventured to the south or east. I don’t know if that helps but it was a pattern that I noticed.”

“Mochof, Octavia.” The Commander nods at her before reverting back to the map. “All armies must to be prepared of the initial attack, the warriors in the north west.” She circles and taps the specified area, “need to be more prepared. Once the gun fires are heard, we close in on them. They will fear our numbers.”

“What of the Sky people inside? The ones— “

“They are to be spared.” The answer instantly sparks an uproar in the room. Fists pounding on the table and shouting are silenced by the Commander’s hand raising in the air.  “They will be unarmed, most likely locked in cages. These are the people that stood for our coalition and against Pike. They are not threats, they are allies.”

“Heda…” her own Trikru ambassador attempts to reason with her in a calm manner.

“They lay waste to our innocent! There are no innocent Skaikru!” The Azgeda General snarls, glowering at Clarke, his eyes digging into her skin.

The Commander longs to spring across the table at his neck for killing Clarke with his eyes. “if they are unarmed, they are not to be harmed! _Jus nou drein jus daun_. This is not about vengeance; this is defense.”

“With all due respect, Heda…”

Before Ni is able to speak, the Commander slams her first back on the table and grits her teeth. “I will hear no more of this. Get your warriors ready and in position.”

* * *

 

In the Commander’s room, the iconic war paint masks her face and hides the tenderness that resides in her eyes. Concealing Lexa from the world. She is snatching her swords and sling them across her back, with one dagger strapped to her thighs.

“Clarke when I’m away, I wish for you to teach the Natblidas of Polaris and Becca. I know you wanted Octavia’s help, but…”

Discussing or thinking about anything other than Lexa’s safety is the furthest thing from her mind, but at least teaching the Nightbloods will give her a purpose. “I will.”

Skaikru has guns and the grounders and Lexa only have hand weapons. It could turn into an absolute blood bath. Images of bullets ripping through skin and Lexa’s fill her head, her own scar aching with the possibility. She withdraws the gun out from her jacket and approaches Lexa, who is tightening the strap of her shoulder piece.

“Take this just in case,” Clarke holds the handle of the gun out.

The Commander stares down at the extended weapon, her jaw working side to side. “Were you not impressed enough with my fighting skills against Roan?”

There is a flash of hurt in the masked green orbs, Clarke sighs. “It’s not that. If they were fighting with swords and daggers too, I wouldn’t be worried. But, they are fighting with guns.”

“I do not wish to hold the gun that could have killed you, Clarke.”

“And I don’t want to lose you to a gun,” Clarke retorts with aggravation.

“If that is— “

_To be my fate. To be my death._ Clarke already knows that’s coming. “I do not want to hear that it is to be your fate or death. And that your spirit will protect me through the next Commander because I don’t want the next Commander. I want you. When you swore fealty to me, you vowed to treat my needs as your own. Well, I need you, Lexa. So treat yourself as my need and keep yourself alive.”

Lexa stares widely at her, swallowing hard. Since she dropped on her knees that night, they had never openly discussed her vow because it felt so private and personal. She takes a final look down at the small gun and grips the handle. “I will treat myself as your need, Clarke.” It felt strange coming off her tongue, Lexa hasn’t been anyone’s need or want in so long. Only the Commander is cared for, for tradition sake. “When you are healed, I wish to teach you to fight without a gun.” She straps the gun to her holster on her right thigh.

“I suppose that’s reasonable,” Clarke says with a weak smirk, barely curling at the corner of her mouth. It’s too hard to be lighthearted right now.

“I will do everything to keep as many alive as I can Clarke, I vowed to treat them as my people as well.” The Commander straightens her pose, fully geared for battle. Her heart aching as it did the last time they were in this position. This time she doesn’t extend a hand or regrettably whisper _may we meet again._ Because they will, she doesn’t want to imagine the alternative anymore. Instead, she caresses Clarke’s face and kisses her short and soft. “I love you, Clarke.” She whispers, resting their foreheads together with their eyes closed and Clarke’s hand on her waist.

“I love you too, Lexa.” With a final peck and fleeting glance, the Commander disappears out the door.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ai biya yu disha na kom au: I told you this would happen  
> Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op: Attack her and you attack me


	9. War and Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle with Pike's army begins while Clarke spends some time with the Nightbloods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this update took a bit longer than I wanted, I was away at a wedding and didn't have much down time. The next one will be faster, I promise. If you ever want to contact me find me on tumblr: lovingwhatido

The stables area is packed with warriors rounding up their horses and coating their face with battle paint. Heda’s horse awaits her with Indra, Lincoln and Octavia assembled around, in an immersed discussion. Their eyes fly up in the Commander’s direction as she approaches and immediately seizes the reigns of the horse to hoist herself up. She kicks her boots into the foot straps and grips the leather reigns tight.

A word doesn’t need to be uttered for the others to hop up on their respective horses. The Commander is mildly impressed when Octavia climbs upon her horse without an ounce of struggle, much improvement from months ago.

“Teik’s gyon au,” the Commander barks gruffly, her face scowling. She flips the reigns instigating the horse to start galloping.

Stomping of hooves crack on the cold solid ground as the other three and additional warriors trail behind their Heda outside of the Polis gates, being anchored open for them. A few carry torches to light up the pitch black sky that darkens when they begin to travel through the forests.  The group is much smaller than usual, compared to their usual enormous army that would march and ride together.

While other members of the coalition may rejoice in perceiving this as a vengeance on Skaikru, finally getting to spill their blood; the Commander is filled with dread. This war, this blood is exactly the cycle she envisioned to break with Clarke by her side. They are both aware of the possible devastating losses on both sides. The burden of war and being Commander weighs heavily down on her shoulders, emotionally sinking her down into the horses back.

On her right, she notices Octavia’s detached face focused on the dirt path in front of them. Her jaw muscles clenched lightly. “Octavia,” the Commander states, waiting until sea green eyes turn to her. “If you feel like you cannot fight this battle, I’d understand.”

“No battle is ever easy. Trikru are my people, Heda. I will fight for them. I will not let Skaikru kill any more of my people.”

In Lexa’s head, she can hear Clarke’s voice from one of the first times they talked about Octavia. “ _Her brother is more important to her than anybody, she would never endanger his life.”_ As Clarke has taught her, she permits her heart to slip through for just a second as she leads. “And what of your brother? Will you fight against him?”

“My brother is on the wrong side,” Octavia hisses through her gritted jaw. Her teeth show briefly as her eyes turn to fire.

The fresh wound rips through her teeth, Lexa can almost feel the betrayal reeking off of her. Not nearly as tangible as Clarke pressing a knife to her throat, both reeling in pain caused by someone they love. _If Clarke even loved her then._ She straightens her posture on the horse, pushing her heart back down. The memory of the cold blade ghosts against her throat.

She glances back over to Lincoln, who is rounding around a thick tree back onto the path. His face stoic as always, as a warrior’s should be. But, she recognizes that he is dreading this nearly as much as she is. “Lincoln,” she calls out.

His neck goes rigid, forced out of a deep reflection. He yanks and jerks his reigns somewhat sloppily to guide to horse to the left towards the Commander. “Sha, Heda?”

“You are my Fleimkepa and a pacifist.” The Commander states plainly while their horses march in time with each other. “I will not force you to fight when you do not wish to.”

The tall warrior bends his neck to miss a low tree branch.  “I fight this war for Octavia and I hope this to be our last. For a long time. Maybe then we can show blood must not have blood and peace.”

“I hope so Fleimkepa. With this battle, we can still show that. We take prisoners when we can. Have little blood spilled as possible.”

“Heda,” Indra interjects from behind them. “The others will kill when they have the chance. They see Skaikru as the enemy and are thirsty for revenge.”

Only sparing a quick glance over her shoulder, the Commander hardens her voice into a demand. “As Trikru General, set an example. One of us must take the first step.” _Let it be you._ She repeats the very words Clarke said to her in the tent that night, encouraging the Commander to break the cycle.

* * *

 

For the past twenty minutes, Clarke has tried to ignore the sun shining through the windows. It’s been awhile since her eyes actually hurt from a lack of sleep. Aside from the night she got shot and the discomfort would pound her awake. Last night she was jolted awake from her nightmares. They are no longer filled with the horrifying memories of the innocent in Mount Weather. Ringing gun shots shook her in her sleep. And when bloodied bodies lined the fields, with both grounders and Skaikru, she would shoot up in bed panting. Her heart already hard and heavy with guilt, she would be responsible for those deaths even if it wasn’t directly by her hand this time.

That was hardly the worst of it. She would wake up with tears rolling down her cheeks when she would envision Lexa or her mom dead. Without either of those two, Clarke would be lost in this world. Losing everyone else would be hard enough, she can’t lose them too.

Clarke realizes she can’t allow herself to dwell on this, it will drive her mad again. She forces herself up and shuffles over to her wardrobe to get dressed for the day. Keeping herself busy with getting her stitches removed and teaching the Nightbloods will hopefully be enough to keep her sane until this is over.

“Aden!” Clarke jumps back, startled when she opens the doors to find the young Nightblood standing there with a sword tightly gripped at his side. Her normal guards remain in their normal positions, a couple feet away from the doors and staring straight ahead.

“I’m sorry,” he bows at the waist. “Heda requested that I and the other Natblidas watch over you in her absence.”

She rolls her eyes and mutters, “of course,” under her breath. This shouldn’t come as a shock any more, she recognizes that Lexa has the best intentions

Taken back by her reaction, Aden jolts his chin out as the Commander does. “She only worries for your safety.”

“I know,” Clarke sighs, she has a horrible knack for unintentionally intimidating the Nightbloods. “You just surprised me.”

The young boy loosens his posture upon Clarke’s explanation and takes in a small breath. “Lexa said you had something to teach us?”

Clarke nods, taking a few slow steps down the hall. “I can teach you and the rest of the Natblidas once I get these stitches out.”

“I will accompany you to the healer.” He states with conviction and no room for argument and proceeds by Clarke’s side down the hall. A trait he has surely learned from Lexa.

After descending down a flight of stairs in silence, Aden asks timidly. “Do you worry for your people, Clarke?”

Nervy eyes skirt at her face before staring back at the ground. Although the corridor is empty, she drops her voice. “The people, who are attacking the blockade, I do not worry for. I worry for the innocent inside that supported the coalition. And I worry for your people who are have to fight against guns.”

“You worry for people that are not your own.” He detects, gesturing to a single door on the right. “Compassion. One of the four pillars of being Heda.”

The wooden door is familiar to Clarke; she was escorted down here when she had attempted to save Lexa’s life the day she fought Roan. And she had impulsively cut her hand open in front of Queen Nia. “I remember you pledging your loyalty to protect my people as the thirteenth clan. We aren’t your people either, that’s compassion.”

Aden holds open the door and follows Clarke inside. As the rest of the Polis tower is, the healer’s room is scattered with candles. Additionally, there are four cots spread throughout the room and side tables of medical tools and bandages.

“Lexa made each of us vow it, our loyalty and protection of Skaikru.”

The disclosure causes Clarke to misstep with the skip in her heart. She was already astounded that Lexa vowed and pledged herself to Clarke and her people. _Had she requested that all of her possibly successors do the same?_

 “Wanheda.” The healer shoves aside the thin curtains leading to a private spot of the room. The same healer that ran to her room that night to stitch her up after the bullet ripped through her.

Unsure of the proper Trigedasleng translation, she tugs down the collar of her shirt and points at the stitches. “I need to have these removed.”

The healer nods and points to a cot, placed against a wall on the far side of the room. As Clarke sits on the edge of the cot, she pulls her over jacket off. “Aden, why don’t you go get the other Natblidas and meet me in the sacred room? This should only take a couple of minutes.”

“Lexa said…”

“I know what Lexa said but I can survive a couple of minutes on my own. I am Wanheda, remember?” She asks rhetorically with a small smirk and a quirk of her eyebrow.  “I’ll tell her you never left my side the entire time.”

Aden surveys the woman carrying a stool and dragging it in front of Clarke.  “As you wish, Clarke.” Before exiting, he bows his head at Clarke. A gesture she finds completely unnecessary.

“Umph,” she grunts softly as the healer begins unthreading and plucking at the stitches.

* * *

 

“The arkers are in position, Heda.” Indra reappears next to her after inspecting the discussed areas and key positions.

The Commander nods in recognition, “how far away are they?”

 “They are getting close. The arkers will take their aim when they are in range. Then the signal will be blown once hits have been made.”

Branches creak in the distance from arkers getting in position as Pike’s army looms across the large clearing between the trees. In the direction that Clarke predicted they would travel in, directly towards the Trikru clan. Their clunky footsteps grow louder by the minute, not as swift or stealthy as those on the ground learned from a young age. The Commander and other warriors have remained drawn back, out of sight, to wait for the arkers to make their moves. An abnormal silence blankets over the clans, frightened to make a sound or rumble and jeopardize their plan.

Faint springs of the bows ping into the air as arrows fly through the air and hit their marks. Multiple bodies collapse to the ground and yelps of pain echo across the field. Their signature war horn is blown loudly, signaling the other clans to close in on the army.

* * *

 

“Woah! The first Commander really fell from the sky in this?” Gio shrieks in wonder. Eyeing Clarke with wide intrigued eyes while the other Nightbloods have their hands magnetized to Polaris. Their jaws still open as they mumble in Trigedasleng.

“Yes.” Clarke smiles. “You can see it in this illustration,” she points to the famous large sketch when she has all of their attention once again. “Rebecca, or Becca as you know her, floated down to earth in this escape pod. And that’s when your people found her as the legends say.”

A Nightblood, near the back of the group, rubs the back of his neck. “But isn’t she the one who caused those bombs to go off? Was Becca bad?”

Eight pairs of big disheartened eyes stare up at Clarke, as if everything they have ever known about Becca has been ripped to shreds. “No, no it wasn’t her fault. It was…” Clarke stops herself when she realizes that she won’t do a better job at explaining the AI than she did the first time. And she can’t continue to allow the Nightbloods believe their first Commander was bad. “I’m not very good at explaining this. Once our people reach an agreement, one of my friends is explaining this to Lexa- the AI and the backstory behind Becca. Because even your Heda doesn’t understand.”

A couple of gasps spurt through the group with exchanged glances amongst the Nightbloods. Almost as if they can’t believe that their Heda doesn’t understand something.

“She doesn’t? Lexa knows everything! She is the smartest of all of our people!” Liam shouts from the front, his mouth hanging open and his eyes are about to fall out of his head.

“Are all of your people smarter than her?” Miana, one of the older Nightbloods, asks innocently.

Clarke breathes out a laugh, “no. Lexa is still the smartest, trust me. My people just have equipment and materials that she isn’t familiar with, no one on the ground is because it was created when we were in the sky.”

“Like the mountain men?” Aden probes, his eyes narrowing and his lips in a tight straight line. The hard swallow gulping in his voice reveals his lingering fear of those who use to over shadow them with superior technology and turn their people into monsters.

“Yes, but more advanced even.” Clarke answers hesitantly but honestly. Instigating further panic over Skaikru and reigniting old fears is not something Clarke wishes to initiate. Surprisingly, there are only a couple moments of silence as the group absorbs the information and blinks away any visible fear.

“How was it living in the sky?”

“Can you tell us a story?”

The eager questions spout quickly through the group and Clarke beams, “I have many stories that I can tell you about living in the sky, near the moon and the stars. Come on sit down and gather around.”

* * *

 

Booming gun shots have been firing through the air, only taking down a few of their arkers. With their superior skills, the arkers were able to take down a significant amount of the army. The ground growls and shakes as all the clans close in, diverse war chants become louder and louder. The Commander unleashes the sword from her belt and runs towards the disoriented army.  Upon hearing the stomping of hooves, boots and erupting war chants, Pike’s army is spinning around and pointing their guns in every direction.

Charging warriors begin being struck down by flying bullets but a sufficient amount weave through to slice through the attacking army. The Commander leaps over fallen bodies to kill two Sky People, who had their guns aimed at Indra.

Her feet come to a skidding stop when Pike appears in front of her, holding his gun straight at her. “This comes to an, Commander. Your people have killed too many of my people. These are our lands!”

The Commander’s heart thuds and seizes as her blood heats up in resentment. She grips her swords tighter, contemplating reaching for the gun strapped to her thigh. “These are not your lands. Your people who stand against me and the coalition will be met by death. As you can see here. We greatly outnumber you.” She nods in the south towards the final approaching clans.

His teeth bare as he holds the gun up higher over his shoulder but is knocked down by Octavia before either of them can make a move. However, he instantly slams her back down on her back and raises the gun up to her instead.

Bodies continue to drop around them filled with agonizing screams and the ripping of flesh. Out of the corner of the Commander’s eye, she can see Indra and Lincoln hesitate briefly but choose to defend off any Skaikru nearby.

A few meters away, Bellamy witness the events unfolding, his eyes widen with horror. He stomps over and with shaky hands, points the gun at Pike. “What are you doing there, Blake?”

“Stopping you.” He grits his teeth together, “I can’t let you kill my sister.”

 “Your sister is one of them! She’s the enemy! You didn’t fix the problem when you had the chance!”

Octavia squints up at Bellamy with an unreadable expression, clearly not thankful or appreciative though. Her eyes glare back at Pike and she wraps her fingers back around her sword, “I’m not the problem. These people are not the problem! You’re the problem, don’t you see that! So many have died under your hand!”

Pike chuckles coldly, “you and Clarke are both brainwashed by these savages. So much wasted potential. I hate to have kill one, who use to be our own.” With that, he lays his finger on the trigger.

The Commander is about to thrust at him but Bellamy jerks his trigger and fires a bullet in Pike’s head. Octavia gasps and scrambles to her feet, Lincoln quickly at her side.  Indra draws her sword at Bellamy, who drops his gun and raises his hands in the air.

“Arrest him,” the Commander growls. “He will be held prisoner, his punishment for his crimes are to be determined.”

Indra lowers her sword and grabs him by the arm to tie his wrists behind his back. As she begins to drag him away, Bellamy chances a glance at Octavia with apologetic yet hopeful eyes.

“Just because you didn’t let Pike put a bullet in me doesn’t change anything everything else you did. You are lucky the Commander even sparred you.” Octavia glowers and grits her teeth.

When his arm is jerked by Indra, he hangs his head and trots where he is being guided. The amount of gun shots has decreased dramatically over the last ten minutes. Most of the attackers have been warded off by the sheer number of those against them.  Blood and dead bodies cake the field around them. The visual still makes the Commander’s stomach twist, she hates the death of more of her people. She declared this short fight in hopes this will be the last one for a long time.

“Thank you, Octavia.” Lexa says sincerely as she marches swiftly passed Lincoln and Octavia towards the remaining fight.

“For what?”

“For quite possibly saving my life.” Lexa doesn’t make eye contact with the girl next to her while they step over mangled bodies, blood seeps over boots and she shakes it off.

“You don’t need to thank me for that. I wasn’t just going to let Pike kill you like that.”

Her fingers rewrap around her sword in precaution as they near battle, “Clarke told me that in your culture people say thank you when you save their lives.”

Octavia huffs, “she has taught you a lot of things hasn’t she?”

Lexa decides to overlook that, unsure if it was a serious question or mockery. She witnesses a woman shoot down an Ice Nation warrior, a bullet to the chest sending them straight to the ground. Within a second, a sword slices clear through her stomach. She falls to her knees choking then collapsing on the ground.

Three bloody Skaikru warriors are being hauled off by their elbows and their wrists secure behind their backs. The swinging and slashing of swords has come to a halt while many of the warriors scan their surroundings for any lingering Skaikru.

None are in the Commander’s eyesight.

“Are there any left alive, who haven’t been taken prisoner of war?” The Commander bellows, her voice echoing off the bare trees.

When she is met with silence, she knows that the short war has come to an end. The clans had the army trapped in this large clearing, it would have been near impossible for one to slip through unharmed.

“The armies of the twelve clans can sound their victory horns. Together we have defeated this enemy!” The Commander shouts and raises her sword in the air.

Cheers and horns deafen the area. Octavia and Lincoln are the only other two who are not celebrating other than the Commander. The Commander meets Indra approaching from the left, “the weapons of fallen Skaikru must be gathered. They can’t fall into the wrong hands. It will be dealt with back in Polis.”

“Sha, Heda. I will order them to gather the weapons when they collect the bodies of our fallen people and prepare their bodies for the ritual.” The Trikru General gives a curt nod.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teik's gyon au: let's go


	10. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa returns from battle but they quickly make another journey from Polis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it has been so long! I haven't forgotten about this story. My long-term girlfriend and I broke up while I was in the middle of moving so it just got lost in there. Saying that, I have lost my beta reader, so I apologize for any mistakes since I only proof-read this myself.

The moon hangs high in the sky when the Commander arrives back at the Polis tower. Only a few stragglers were spotted stumbling home intoxicated, doubtlessly celebrating after the victory bell was rung hours ago now. She had stayed to pay respects to her fallen warriors while their bodies were burned in the middle of the field. Bodies of Skaikru were left behind, Octavia indicated that loved ones will choose what to do with the body. Then the young warrior remained behind with Indra and other trusted warriors to guard the gates of Arkadia. In case other clans try to defy their Commander and attack Skaikru.

In her room, Lexa tosses her worn clothes aside and kicks off her blood stained boots while a bath is prepared. Battle and death cling to her, it’s heavy and grimy on her skin. The first thing she does is soak her face in the hot water to wipe away the thick war paint. Her eyes sting when some paint seeps inside, she grabs a cloth next to the tub and dabs at them. Squeezing them tightly shut then blinking a couple of times until the stinging fades.

After unweaving her braids, she dips her head back into the water to soaking every inch of her sweaty sticky hair. She massages shampoo into her hair and scalp, sensing all the dirt and filth falling out. For a long moment, she sits and basks into the warmth of the water. Although, her muscles don’t ache, the dead winter has chilled down to her bones.

When the heat begins to steam off, she heaves herself out of the tub and uses a towel to dry off. The length of the last two days’ rattles hard through, she nearly forgot she didn’t sleep last night as they marched to the battle grounds. She drops a thicker-winter nightgown over her head and stares at her bed; she told herself she wouldn’t bother Clarke if it was this late upon her return but her bed looks so lonely and her soul aches for her.

_Selfish_. She internally kicks herself when she carries herself down the quiet hall. Miana, the Natblida on duty, is posted with the guards outside of Clarke’s room. Her jet-black hair is braided tightly behind her head and she stands tall with her shoulders back. A trait of a warrior that she has developed so well over the years.

“Lexa!” She exclaims excitedly but still under her breath as she bows her head in the Commander’s presence. “How did the battle go?”

“You’ll get details in the morning, Miana. Now, you may rest.” She smiles warmly and dismisses her from her duties.

While her Natblida travels down the hall, Lexa pushes open a door into Clarke’s room. Only a few candles continue to burn, to illuminate a gentle soothing light. She creeps the door closed and tip toes towards the bed, trying not to make a sound. But, a squeak in the floor boards instantly wakes Clarke.

She springs up in her bed, her eyes blinking into focus. “Lexa?” Her voice thick with sleep, the additional huskiness sends shivers through Lexa’s body.

“Sorry, I-.” Before she can finish, the other girl has jumped out of bed and flung her arms around her neck. Lexa closes her eyes and exhales heavily, wrapping her arms tightly back around Clarke. Her head falls to Clarke’s shoulder and she tilts her face to bury her nose into her neck, breathing in her earthy scent.

“I heard them ring the victory bell, I’m just so glad you’re back.” Clarke unwraps her arms from around her neck and pats around her shoulders, arms and stomach. Remembering the battle with Roan, she flips Lexa’s hands over to study her palms.  Her thumb traces over the scar crossing her hand.

“I’m okay, Clarke. No injuries this time,” Lexa smiles, not attempting to halt Clarke’s worried hands. It’s a quality she finds incredibly endearing about Clarke- caring and a natural healer.

“What happened?” Clarke probes, smoothing her hands up Lexa’s upper arms to her shoulders, to slip under the nightgown and caress the skin of her shoulders.

While she hasn’t been gone long, Lexa missed the warmth in Clarke’s eyes. Her fingers move in slow feather patterns on the other girl’s waist as she holds her gaze, “everything went as planned. However, can we discuss this in the morning? I-.”

“I know, you haven’t slept,” Clarke sighs sympathetically. “You missed some of your war paint,” her fingers brush under her eyes and across her cheeks.  “Sit on the edge of the bed and I’m going to get the rest for you.”

Lexa’s eyes shimmer up and down Clarke’s body when she turns away momentarily to grab a cloth from the small table beside her bed. The maroon nightgown clings to her in all the perfect places in a way that leaves Lexa’s mouth dry. She sits on the edge of the bed as instructed, waiting while Clarke dips the cloth into a basin. Lexa closes her eyes when Clarke bends over to rub off the residual black paint. A few spots on her cheek, some around her eyes and a spot on the inner part of her nose. It has been so long since someone has taken care of her this way after war or a battle. Tending to Lexa and not the Commander. Even after Roan, Clarke stated ‘ _she was only doing what was right for her people’._

“Thank you, hodnes.” Lexa smiles when the cloth is disconnected from her face and Clarke tucks damp waves of her hair behind her ear, allowing her fingers to trail alongside Lexa’s jaw.

“Come on, let’s get some sleep.” Clarke whispers, not missing the blood shot tint to the whites of Lexa’s eyes. “You need as much as you can get.”

Lexa pushes back the fur on her side to slip under while Clarke climbs in on the other side after putting the cloth and basin back on the table. Their arms slink around each other’s waists to shuffle closer until their foreheads are resting together. For a minute, their eyes stay locked together and their breath mingles together. But, as soon as Lexa’s eyes fall upon her pink lips, she tilts her head up to kiss Clarke delicately. A silent _I missed you._

The kiss only lasts a few seconds before Lexa rolls her head back down and rests her forehead back against Clarke’s. A bubble envelopes them as they inch closer together, seeking solace and warmth.

Clarke’s eyes are still heavy with sleep from when she was awoken earlier and now the heat from Lexa’s body and the comfort of her arms is enough to drift her back to sleep. “Reshop, Leska.”

“Goodnight, Clarke,” Lexa murmurs and shuts her own eyes as the strain of the past two days over takes her body. And for the first time in days, she feels safe.

 

* * *

 

 

Not long after sunrise, the Commander and Clarke have joined Lincoln in his chambers to discuss the developing predicament and the repercussions of the recent battle. Clarke is seated on the couch with her elbows on her knees and her head leaning against her hand.

“The other clans were reluctant before to allow Skaikru to be the thirteenth clan. After the massacre of your first army and yesterday’s battle, why would they even consider allowing us back into the coalition?” Clarke poses logically, her head twisting against her hand to face the Commander and Lincoln.

The Commander is standing behind the other side of the couch, with a hand gripping the edge. “If Pike and his followers were the only threat as you claimed, then there is nothing further to fear from Skaikru. Because the threat is either dead or being held prisoner in this tower.” She releases her hand from the couch and points at the ground, signaling towards the cages and prisons below.

Near the wide rectangular window, a couple yards away, Lincoln has his arms crossed across his chest. “Heda, the clans may not see it that way. With the recent massacre, their technology. You must prepare for a retaliation.”

The Commander puffs out her chest and grits her teeth, “I am their Heda. They will not defy me.” The sun has barely risen and irritation prickles her bloodstream. She knows that it’s not direct irritation with Clarke and Lincoln but the whole predicament in general. Skaikru’s continuous mistakes and making it increasingly difficult for them to be the thirteenth clan in a hopeful peaceful future. Irritation that it could interfere with her someday with Clarke. But, she can’t let herself do that. _Head over heart._

Clarke shoots Lincoln a warning glare before he attempts to debate further. She turns back to Lexa, staring at her profile thoughtfully. “They have retaliated once already, what will you do if they do it again?”

A new-found warmth and affection rises in her blue eyes when the Commander meets her stare, “they can issue another challenge if they question my leadership again.”

Her heart stings when Clarke’s eyes cut away from hers and the girl’s fingers anxiously curl. She swallows and glances down herself, recalling some of her feelings prior to her fight with Roan. Sensing a personal moment developing, Lincoln refocuses his attention outside the window on the dark cloudy day.

“Clarke, I’ll be fine.” Lexa whispers.

“I know; I’ve seen you fight now to know that you’ll be okay.” Clarke says with the smallest of smiles, enlightening that she knows Lexa will win with her superior fighting skills but she doesn’t enjoy the risk that she has to take. A risk that is because of her and Skaikru that the Commander’s leadership is questioned. _Again_.

“We must not worry about this until you speak with Kane and your mother.”

 

* * *

 

The Commander throws her leg over her horse with ease, not the same horse as she rode to battle on. A slower horse that she rides leisurely and has more endurance.

Clarke hoists herself up less gracefully, a sharp twinge bursts at her collarbone when she sets all of her weight on her right arm. The bunch of her eyebrows and scrunch of her nose with a muted grunt does not go unnoticed by Lexa. By the time Clarke shoved her feet into the cuffs, Lexa’s horse has trotted the short distance between them.

“If you require rest while we are riding or it hurts too much to ride, tell me.” Lexa whispers.

_She can’t stop, it would make her appear weak._ “I’ll be fine, it’s healed.” Clarke looks away from the devoted green eyes. But, when they continue staring at her, she sighs and glances back up. “I’ll tell you if it gets sore at any point, I promise.”

Lexa nods, taking another second to gaze into the mesmerizing blue swirls then tugs on her reigns. “We must be on our way then; we should be able to get there before sun down.”

Only a few guards trek with them, less of a parade to quicken their journey. Lincoln remained in Polis to be with the Natblidas. The horses generate a rhythmic drum on the ground as they ride through the forest. A similar path that the Commander followed a couple of days ago, but angled to the north to miss the bodies of Skaikru. A scene Clarke does not need to witness; she already holds plenty of guilt in her heart.

“It’s so much less green now,” Clarke remarks, her nose scrunching at the bare forest around them. No leaves on the trees, no colorful flowers and patchy brown grass spotting the area.

“The cold of winter has blown hard the last few days, the color will come back in the spring.”

Clarke’s lips are still downturned, missing the vibrant green colorings of the forest that she longs to draw. Spring, a season she has yet to experience first- hand. She read about the blooming colors when the flowers would pop back out as the earth tilted back towards the sun. A couple of records and pictures captured that season but it was never enough for Clarke to draw.

An icy breeze whooshes through her jacket, her body shudders and her muscles tense. Changes in weather were never a factor she had to deal with on the Ark. There were times during her isolation where the temperature would drop but this harsh winter wind is the worst.

“Are you in pain, Clarke?” The Commander asks in just above a whisper, detecting Clarke’s rigid posture and the tight press of her lips.

Clarke shakes and turns her head. “I’m fine, just a bit cold. Not quite use to the weather yet.” A dim warmth spreads through her chest as she absorbs Lexa in, the ruby hood draped over her head. Reminds her of their last ride to Arkadia, one that was never complete.

“Once we return to Polis, we will obtain proper winter attire for you. Lined in fur as mine is.” Lexa offers before a thought dawns on her and she swallows. “Or I can have them sent to you if you wish to stay in Arkadia instead.”

“I might have some attire in my old room to hold me over until we do so.”

The response does not answer Lexa’s impending thoughts. It’s possible that Clarke will remain in Arkadia, they’re her people. After all, she came down from the Sky with them. And Lexa from the ground, the Commander. They both have duties to their people. The decision shouldn’t affect Lexa personally but she knows her heart will sink if she returns to Polis without her. Her smile, her sapphire eyes, the warmth of her arms have all become home for her. She doesn’t want to be lonely again. To be Commander does not have to mean _to be alone._

 

* * *

 

Even in a dreary grey day, the fuzzy imminent darkness from the sunset is visible. The gates of Arkadia are faint and unfocused ahead of them, feeling even less homey than Clarke remembers. This isn’t Camp Jaha that they built when they dropped to Earth. Compared to Polis, this feels dead.

They tug mildly on their reigns to gradually slow their horses as they close in on the gates. A layer of sweat gathers at Clarke’s palms beneath her gloves, uncertain of how welcoming her greeting will be. This will be the first time she really faces people, besides her mom and Kane, after she left all those months ago. _Will she still be greeted with a cold shoulder? Or will they finally understand?_

Outside the closed gates, stands a line of the Commander’s most trusted warriors. Guarding for any backlash from the clans.  Kane immediately stands out amongst them, dressed in sky gear and facing mostly towards Indra. When they are close enough, Kane drops his hand away from his chin to watch the small group approach.

“Heda,” he steps forward respectfully acknowledges her with a bow of his head before any of the warriors had a chance to speak.

“I’m glad to see you again, Marcus.” The Commander nods at the unshaven man in front of her.

“Kane!” Clarke exclaims when their eyes meet and shakes her feet out of the cuffs. Before the Commander can bark an order at her guards to assist Clarke, Kane is at her side helping her off the horse.

He draws her into a gentle embrace once her feet are steady on the ground.  “I am so thankful that you are safe. You have had your mother worried sick. She has been very eager for your arrival.” His untrimmed bread scratches against the top of Clarke’s head.

“I’m so relieved that you and my mom are alright, I didn’t know what could happen to you two.” Clarke mumbles against Kane’s shoulder.

Kane leans out of the embrace and squeezes Clarke’s shoulders with a smile then he spins towards the entrance and bellows, “open the gates!”

The iron gates squeak as they are pried open and a layer of dust kicks up in the air. Lexa slides off her horse, landing with only a quiet thud on the ground. A natural action for her. Two guards grab the reigns of Clarke’s and Lexa’s horses to guide them away, allowing the two women to follow Kane inside Arkadia.

“Clarke!” An unmistakable voice shouts her name when they step three feet inside Arkadia.

Clarke jogs past Kane to fall into her mom’s arms, who was running towards her. The arms around her nearly suffocate her from being hugged so tight. “I knew we would meet again.” Her mom whispers beside her ear.

All Clarke can do is nod in return and close her eyes, ignoring all of the eyes on her. Not ready to deal with the various emotions and responses due to her return.  The Commander and Kane have remained a couple feet back, giving them privacy upon their emotional reunion.  In the far distance, in a large opening on the Ark, Lexa spots Jaha and Raven staring keenly at them with an expression she can’t quiet decipher. Interest? Annoyance? Judgmental? Immediately she recalls that they are in the City of Light, another point on their agenda that she needs to attend to. The remaining Sky People have stopped their activities to observe a reunion and to examine the Commander with a ray of emotions. Some wary, unsure with their stare. A few resentful sneers and mumbled whispers. Nothing she wasn’t prepared for.

But, the harsh cutting glowers directed at Clarke with shakes of their heads and grunts of disapproval are enough to trigger a heat of rage that rises from Lexa’s stomach up through her shoulders. _Skaikru is incredibly ungrateful and undeserving of Clarke._

Kane is the first to step forward as Clarke and Abby break apart, placing a hand on both of their shoulders. “I believe the four of us have a long awaited discussion.” His eyes meet the Commander’s when she is a half-step behind him.

Abby wipes a few stray tears away with the back of her knuckle then nods. “Yes, we do indeed. Welcome, Commander.”

“Abby,” the Commander provides a small nod

Leading the way, Kane navigates through the halls with Abby by his side and the Commander and Clarke in tow followed up several guards. The halls are bleak and dingy and emptier than Clarke remembers. Serving as a blaring reminder of how many people they have lost since they have come down here.

After a couple of turns, Kane presses a button on a side of a door and it shutters open. “Our engineer needs to fix some of the wiring so it doesn’t do that.”

The Commander’s eyebrows scrunch together, completely dumbfounded by their technology once again. And at a complete loss at the reference. Her eyes catch a glimpse of a small smirk on Clarke’s face.

In the middle of the room is a long table big enough to fit at least twenty people but only the four of them gather around the table as the guards stand by the doors outside. Clarke and the Commander on one side and Kane and Abby on the other.

Kane clears his throat and directs his attention at the Commander, who has her hands clasped behind her back. “I guess we should start out by apologizing for Pike’s actions- the massacre of your army originally, that rejected the collation. Then this most recent battle that you were actively trying to avoid at all costs.”

Before the Commander can respond, Abby speaks up. “We both know how hard you and Clarke worked together to get Skaikru to become the thirteenth clan and keep us safe after Pike’s rejection of the collation.” The worn-down eyes shift between the two women on the other side of the table.

Clarke and Lexa exchange a quick silent look until the Commander continues. “I am aware of the polarized disagreement among Skaikru that led to this division, those on Kane’s side. And those on Pike’s side, who fought against my collation and the army of twelve clans. With my new way of blood must not have blood, I attempted to spare as many Skaikru as possible. Those who were sparred are being held in Polis, their punishment has yet to be determined. However, those who were not sparred, remain on the battle field. Including Pike. Octavia had mentioned that loved ones will choose who to proceed.”

Kane and Abby drop their heads after staring for a long moment at each other, the older man takes a deep breath. “Thank you for your efforts Commander, we knew that there would be many lives lost. It is just the after math that we will struggle to deal with.”

“Your advanced weaponry was very damaging to my people as well; we are lucky that we outnumber you greatly. But, if you wish to re-enter this collation, your guns must be surrendered.”

The insinuation clearly takes Kane by surprise, his eyes widen with a drop of his jaw. “You would allow us back into your collation?”

“Yes,” the Commander confirms firmly with a slow nod and a pause. “But as long as you or Abby are elected as the leader. That is the only option my people would consider to allow you back as the thirteenth clan.”

The older couple share a long moment together, silently communicating with each other through their eyes before Kane responds. “Allow us awhile to discuss and arrange an election, we have to inform our people of the deceased and prisoners.”

“And Clarke?” Abby directs at her abruptly. “Would you remain the ambassador for Skaikru in the case of re-entering the collation?”

Clarke skims from her mom’s questioning eyes back to the Commander’s expectant eyes, she can spot the hopeful hints of Lexa in the green orbs. “Yes, I would. I believe I have the best knowledge and relationships to be the most useful ambassador for us.”

“Excellent.” The man says with such a bright smile and clapping his hands together once. “Abby and I must speak privately then announce the election. We will have an answer for you before midday tomorrow.”

As Kane heads towards the door, Abby returns her attention back to her daughter. “Clarke, you still have your room from before.” Her eyes shift and her tone becomes harder and more formal towards the other woman. “And Commander, we have a room prepared for you in case you felt comfortable enough to spend the night here.”

The Commander nods appreciatively, “thank you, Abby. However, I have had my people set up my tent for me right outside the gates. I was unsure if my presence would be widely welcomed.”

“I thought you might feel that way but just in case.” Abby smiles semi-warmly at the Commander before exiting through the door behind Kane.

The diagonal door slams shut, leaving Lexa and Clarke alone in the giant room. Lexa takes three steps closer to Clarke, permitting only a couple of inches to remain between them. “That went well and it seems you are relieved to be reunited with your mother.”

“I just hope they win the election.”

Lexa observes the slightest change in Clarke’s features, the subtle crease in her forehead and the little scrunch of in her nose. “Are you worried that they won’t?”

Clarke shakes her head and shrugs, “I don’t know. We didn’t expect Pike to beat out Kane in an election. But, he did. Someone like Jaha, who use to be Chancellor could easily jump in and ruin it with his whole city of light agenda.”

“We must hope that your people have learned from recent events that their faith in Pike was misplaced and that the collation is the safest option.”

“And if they haven’t?” Clarke’s eyebrow bounces with the question and she tosses one hand up in annoyance and frustration and the lingering possibility.

“Then Skaikru will put themselves at risk once again but that is-“

“Would I be able to join Trikru or another clan if the election fails?” Clarke interrupts her, already aware of the fate of Skaikru if they do not re-enter the collation.

_Would Clarke choose to stay on this side of it this time? Choose her?_ Lexa can sense herself growing too hopeful, permitting her heart to be vulnerable like the last time she _thought_ Clarke might choose her over her people. For now, she gulps that away to speak evenly. “It may be complicated considering your previous status and position in Skaikru but if it comes to that decision for you, we will figure out a way.”

The longer Clarke stares into Lexa’s eyes, the more she can make out the fine red lines coloring the whites of her eyes. “You need to sleep, Commander.” Her fingers reach out and brush along the fur that is sticking out of Lexa’s coat.

Lexa’s stomach drops at the low husky tone of _Commander_. “You need sleep also, Ambassador,” she retorts with a small smirk then strokes her left hand along Clarke’s arm. “Look for warmer clothing. If there is nothing that protects you enough from the cold, I will send someone to a Trikru village to find you a coat for the time being.”

Clarke can’t help but smile adoringly at Lexa’s generosity and tenderness. “I’ll let you know in the morning, if I need something.”

“Will you be okay here tonight? Will you be safe?” Lexa requests softly, shuffling closer and holding loosely onto Clarke’s elbow.

“Nothing will happen; I know these people. They won’t hurt me.” There is a small lurch in Clarke’s stomach, most likely at the half lie she just told and the guilt of not revealing all the details of the last visit.

Lexa gazes into the depths of her blue eyes, unable to push away the deliberations nagging at her throat and heart. Her voice falls to a timid mutter, “I was so worried last time when you came here after we saw what happened.” She swallows and drops her eyes to her boots, “all I wanted to do was be at your side to protect you but I...you.”

That lurch in Clarke’s stomach turns into an abrupt churn with Lexa’ s fumbled words, she raises her hand to Lexa’s cheek. Her thumb brushes along the defined cheek bone, causing the older girl’s eyes to flurry shut before meeting her eyes again. “I’ll be fine, I promise.” Clarke breathes then leans up an inch to Lexa’s lips.

They allow their lips to rest together for several seconds, absorbing the simplicity of the soft caress. Lexa parts her lips barely to take Clarke’s top lip, sucking as soothingly as possible. When Clarke’s hand spreads to cup her cheek, Lexa moves her hand from her elbow to her waist and inches her against her.

“Oh, wow,” is mumbled from the other side of the room but neither woman appears to register the words until there is a forceful clearing of a throat.

Their hands plunge away from each other and they spring a couple of inches apart and their eyes land on Abby standing alone near the door. Blushes spread over their faces and necks and Lexa reaches up to cover her lips with two fingers, as they continue to tingle after the moment.

The Commander glances at the floor then straightens her back, not allowing embarrassment to rattle her. Yet, Clarke is still fixated at the other side of the room. Lexa figures it is best to depart and allow for a mother and daughter to talk.  “Sleep well, Clarke. I will return early tomorrow.”

When Clarke gives her a tiny nod, Lexa adjusts her coat and struts towards the door. Abby is glued to the same spot with her eyes bulging and her jaw is slacked open. “Good night, Abby.” The Commander bids her coolly as if nothing had happened.

The door wavers shut and Abby’s eyes snap from the door to Clarke. “Did I…” Abby’s voice falters in disbelief as she shakes her head.

Clarke shifts back towards her with her arms crossing her chest and a tight jaw, “just see me kissing Lexa? Yes.” She finishes for her mother confidently. “Ever heard of knocking?”

Her mom scoffs then rolls her eyes, “I didn’t exactly expect to walk in on you two kissing! How long has this been going on? Did she threaten you? Is she-“

“It’s always been very consensual!” Clarke cuts her mom off critically, before she had to hear anything more ridiculous. “She would never threaten me or make me do anything that I do not wish to do.”

“How long?” Abby requests more sternly, her hands gripping the back of the chair at the head of the table.

Clarke inhales heavily, scanning her eyes absently around the plain meeting room. Eventually her eyes land back on her hands and the table, “before the mountain, you could say. But, what you saw is a little more of a recent development.”

“The mountain…” her mom utters delicately but the words are a repulsive hiss in Clarke’s ears. “Is that another reason why…” The remainder of the sentence doesn’t need to be finished and the silence that follows is more than enough to answer it.

Abby nods to herself then rounds the table towards Clarke, her features softening to motherly concern. “Is this why you were shot?” Her eyes dip to her daughter’s collarbone region, that no longer displays revealing bandages.

“Titus believed that it would make Lexa angry enough to declare war on Skaikru and wipe you out.” Clarke answers truthfully, not missing the fresh terseness to her mom’s eyes and her lips squeezing together.

“Would she have? Are you the only thing stop her from killing us all?”

“No!” Clarke shakes her head. “She tried to make peace and alliances with Skaikru before anything between us happened. She wants peace as much as we do. We separate feelings from duty. She left me at the mountain for her duty to her people and I was going to leave her to come back here until this happened.” She gestures up towards her healing injury.

Her mom steps closer into her personal space, “I still need to take a look at that.”

Clarke huffs in annoyance, pulls off her gloves, unzips her jacket and jumps up on the table behind her. Abby assesses the area gently with her fingers, pressing and patting the general area. Her fingers are cold and hard but Clarke’s skin is practically numb with the winter air. “Is stuff like this going to continue to happen since you have put yourself in this position? If…”

“Only if too many people know about it during this time of instability and war. Right now, only you, Lincoln and Octavia are aware.  And maybe Indra. Titus has been banished for this. No one else can know.” Clarke searches for her mom’s eyes for an agreement.

After a second, her mom looks up from her examination, her fingers stilling just above the scar. “I have to let Marcus know. If he is going to be chancellor, it is only fair if he knows of his ambassador’s relationship with the Commander.”

Clarke inhales, not looking away from her mom as she contemplates the statement. “Fine, but no one else. Not even if he isn’t elected chancellor.”

Her mom sighs. “Okay, fine. I guess that’s fair. As long as it is for your protection.  I may trust the Commander to keep us safe, she has proven to her word in recent times. More so than anyone else has but I don’t trust Lexa.”

“Well you should because I do.”  It comes out more defensively than Clarke intended, sick of people seeing Lexa as nothing but a heartless Commander.

Not willing to argue, Abby withdraws her hands when she is done with her examination and changes the subject. “You need to rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I need you to be up early as we begin the election. You’re healing well though, they must have decent healers in Polis.”

“They do,” Clarke says as she slips back into her jacket and hops off the table.

Before she departs the room, Abby grasps Clarke’s elbow and tugs her into a hug “I’m grateful that you’re here.”

“I’m glad to see you too, mom.” Clarke whisper back, pulling away. “Good night.”

 

* * *

 

The Commander’s tent stands several meters away from Arkadia’s gates. Enough room for privacy but not enough to appear cold and unfriendly towards amends. The guards that have been with Lexa through the day’s journey stay put outside the tent flaps while Indra and Octavia shadow her inside the candle lit tent.

“I’m surprised Clarke is staying in Arkadia, especially with no one with her.” Octavia states, coming to a gradual stop by a wooden table.

“Clarke said she would be fine that she trusted her people.”  Lexa unstraps her gloves as she turns back to the duo behind her. The former Sky girl opens her mouth then closes it again, as if she has something more to say. “Do you believe Clarke to be at risk?”

Octavia glances quickly at her mentor then back to the Commander, “it’s just after what happened when I snuck her in, I didn’t know how she would feel...or how you would feel.” The last part of her sentence is muttered hesitantly under her breath.

Lexa’s brow frows at the insinuation, “what happened, Octavia?” Her voice beginning to hammer hard in the Commander’s.

There is a subtle quiver in Octavia’s jaw during her pause and Indra peers expectantly over at her for an answer. “My brother handcuffed her to a chair then tried to arrest her. I had to swoop in and save her. She was pretty upset at what he said to her also. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”

Lexa’s fingers curl into a ball as her skin stings from her boiling blood. How she wishes to curl her fists into the boy’s face instead, she had the chance on the battle field. Or she had the chance to do worse.

“I can stay the night with her, if you wish, Heda.” Octavia offers during the silence, feeling responsible for the anger coursing through the room and the new snarl in the Commander’s lip.

It will be more discrete to have Octavia there on guard than one of her own or summoning Clarke to her tent. So, the Commander nods and waves her off. “Sha, Octavia.”

After Octavia shoves her daggers into her weapon holsters, she disappears through the flaps and into the night. Indra remains unmoving, staring almost disapprovingly at the Commander.  

“Is there something you wish to say, Indra?”

The woman swallows hard and raises her chin with forced confidence. “You know my opinions on Skaikru and Clarke.” She waits until the Commander nods. “She has been loyal to us since the alliance, she has even fought her on people on the matter. They are undeserving of her.”

Lexa exhales slowly through her nose, dropping her gloves on the table beside her. “I know, but Clarke is a true and admirable leader. She won’t abandon them.”

To even Lexa’s surprise, Indra’s voice softens a notch. “You have helped her become a better leader, Heda.”

“No,” the Commander shakes her head, not meeting the dark eyes across the table. “It is not I that has helped her. It is her that helped me. Become a better leader. A better Commander for my people. And she elevates herself.” _She’s special._ Burns on her tongue.

When she looks up, there is the smallest twitch at the corner of Indra’s mouth.

 

* * *

 

Once Clarke has finally settled into her old bed, one that feels hard and cold without the abundance of furs and an overly large mattress with Lexa on the other side, there is a sudden nudge and twist at the door. Instantly, her mind goes to the worst case scenario and her blood runs cold. _Is someone trying to break in? Who else would be coming to see her?_ Her mom or Kane would’ve knocked at least. She snatches the knife from under her bed and hides it behind her thigh as she approaches the door.

“Woah there, princess,” Octavia holds her hands up in the air when the door snaps open and she spots the knife peeking out from Clarke’s side. “It’s just me.”

“Octavia,” Clarke breathes out a sigh of relief and turns back towards her bed. “What the hell are you doing here?” She slides the dagger back under her bed and plops down on the side of her bed.

The door clangs shut behind the young Trikru warrior, “Lexa requested that I stay with you. I was not aware that you didn’t tell her about the encounter that you had with my brother the last time.”

“Better you came than her,” Clarke mutters, swinging her legs up on the bed and collapses against the mattress, thumping her palm against her forehead.

“Trouble in paradise?” Octavia mocks with a smirk, squatting against the cement wall opposite of Clarke’s bed.

“No,” Clarke rolls her eyes at the ceiling. “My mom walked in on us kissing.”

A burst of laughter echoes in the room followed by a deep snort causing Clarke to grin when she looks at the girl covered in intimidating war paint almost collapsing on the ground. “I’m sure your mom’s face was priceless.”

This time Clarke giggles with her as she recalls the scene, “yeah I though her eyes were going to pop out of her head. She was at a total loss. And I’m pretty sure Lexa actually got flustered there for a minute.”

“I would’ve killed to be there,” Octavia shakes her head with a residual soft laugh.

The giggling subsides mostly but there is a lightness to her chest, she almost forgot what it was like to have a friend and to laugh. And the feeling of being a normal eighteen year talking about a girl she’s in love with instead of political and war decisions being shoved in front of her. Tomorrow, she will be faced with decisions yet again but with a little teenage normalcy mixed in. She can definitely expect there to be some tension between her mom and Lexa tomorrow. “Tomorrow should be awkward.”

There is a soft thud on the ground when Octavia eventually drops out of her squat. “Speaking of tomorrow, you had a long day and you should sleep.”

“You’re sounding a lot like Lexa right now,” Clarke gripes, hearing those exact words from her less than an hour ago.

“Well, I don’t want your girlfriend at my throat when you get whiny and grumpy tomorrow because you’re tired.”

Clarke shakes her head, but a smile is painted wide across her lips as she rolls on her side away from the other girl. “Goodnight, Octavia. Make sure you get some sleep too; Lincoln would tell you to do the same.”

 


	11. Elections and Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arkadia holds the election for the new Chancellor, deciding the direction of their future. Clarke runs into some faces that she hasn't seen in a long time.

“Can’t handle the cold, princess?” Octavia teases her after hearing her grumble about needing a winter coat while she reluctantly got out of her semi-warm bed.

Once her jacket is zipped and the knife is tucked into her boot, Clarke spins to face the younger girl. “Oh shut up. I heard you shifting around all during the night. If you didn’t have that fur-filled coat, I’m sure I would hear your teeth clattering in between your whines.”

Octavia cocks an eyebrow as Clarke marches past her to the door. “I think it’s being a warrior that has given me thicker skin.”

Clarke glances over her shoulder to see Octavia taking three long strides to catch up to her. “And I think it was my three months on my own that gave me thicker skin.” The light-hearted atmosphere tenses at the mention, the amusing smiles and quirked eyebrows drop from their faces. Mainly because Octavia doesn’t know how to respond to a relatively delicate subject. Clarke clears her throat quietly, “we need to find my mom and Kane before this election starts they are probably in one of the conference rooms.”

The two girls navigate their way through the winding halls, heading towards the conference rooms section. Arkers are beginning to emerge from their rooms and filling the empty hall ways. Their new-grounder style outfits, cause them stick out even more amongst the crowds. A few scowls and snarls are thrown their direction. They both manage to ignore some mumbling insults. But, it is the “you traitors don’t belong here, go back to your filthy savages” that sends Clarke over the edge. She whips around with a low growl in her chest and charges at Will, an Aker she barely knows. Octavia catches her by the waist and holds her back. Clarke’s boots scrap against the ground and she jerks and tenses in the warrior’s tight grasp.

The group snickers at her, “she’s out of control and unfit to be a leader. She’s become one of them too, just like this one that was turned by her savage boyfriend.”

Octavia bares her teeth and clutches Clarke’s elbow when she takes a step towards the group again. “Come on, they aren’t worth it.” She manages to thrust Clarke back in front of her to return their path. “You don’t want to give anyone else a reason for this election to sway another way. And plus Lexa would be pissed at me if you came back with a broken nose or black eye.”

Now, people are staring at them as Clarke storms through the halls with Octavia’s hand on her lower back. A minute later, they hear two distinct voices and Clarke smacks the conference room button with her still balled fist.

“Oh you’re up!” Abby’s head perks up out of the conversation, her and Kane are sitting at the far side of the table. Kane twists in his seat to welcome them with an amiable smile. “Did you stay the night in Arkadia, Octavia?” Abby asks.

The doors sputter shut behind them. “Commander’s orders to stay the night with Clarke.” Octavia clarifies dryly.

Abby offers one slow nod with her eyebrows lifted and her eyes knowingly averting to Clarke. A smirk drags on Kane’s chapped lips after he glances at Abby’s expression then back to Clarke. Unsure of it means he is more approving of the relationship than her mom is or if he purely finds it amusing.

“Any new updates on the election for today?” Clarke asks, ignoring the awkwardness swirling through the room, and sitting down on Kane’s side of the table three chairs down from him.

Kane drums his fingers a couple of times on the table then leans back in his chair. “Yes, as suspected Jaha will be running against me in this campaign. He will most likely have the City of Light folks backing him so we have been strategizing on how to compete against that. The election is being held at ten in the old Alpha cafeteria.  After that, groups are being formed to retrieve loved ones from the battlefield.”

Clarke cranes her head to Octavia, standing between the head of the table and the door. “Can you inform Lexa of these details, she will want to be here after the election I’m assuming.”

Octavia nods, meeting the three pairs of eyes around the table. “I’ll tell her to be here in a couple of hours then. Good luck, Kane.” She gives him a half-effort salute with two fingers. Even though her back is already turned, he mockingly salutes her back with a humorous grin.

* * *

 

As ten o’clock ticks close, the seats in the cafeteria gradually become occupied. The people of the Ark are visibly hesitant to sit directly next to Clarke, leaving the seats right next to her open. _It’s probably better this way,_ Clarke thinks to herself while focusing on her mom and Kane at the center of the make-shift stage in front of her. Jaha stands to their left, whispering to Raven then to the empty air behind him. _Weird,_ Clarke scrunches her nose at the peculiar actions.

When Jaha and Raven start staring at her with suspicion and curiosity, Clarke grows increasingly uncomfortable and browses over her shoulder at the rest of the room to break the awkward eye contact. Only a few Arkers are left standing, the audience looks so small.  Her shoulders slump slightly, reminded of how many they have lost during their couple of months here. _So many because of her…_

Clarke jumps when a hand clasps her shoulder and she snaps around to Monty smiling at her, his dimples and soft eyes as prominent as ever. When she relaxes after a second, he fills one of the empty sits next to her. “I’m sorry I have gotten the chance to say welcome back,” at first he hesitantly wraps an arm around her waist then draws her into a friendly hug.

“I have been pretty busy in these couple of short hours,” Clarke says as she unwraps her arms from his neck. “I’m relieved to see that you made it through all this, Monty.”

The boy nods shallowly with a ghost of a smile at the tips of his lips. “Same with you, Clarke. I know you have been through a lot also, not just with us. Some people unfortunately forget that.”

Their conversation is cut short when Abby attempts to gain the room’s attention. “Thank you for coming here on such short notice,” Abby projects loudly, pausing while the room quiets down. “We are all aware that this has been a deeply emotional time and we will still need time to grieve our losses. But, we need to elect a new leader to maintain order in Arkadia and to move forward and survive in this land. Today, we have two experienced candidates, that have been Chancellor of our people at one point in recent months. Marcus Kane and Thelonias Jaha.” A few respectful claps pop through the cafeteria, warranting a several second pause. “They will give their respective speeches then you will vote for your preferred candidate and we will have a new chancellor by the end of this meeting.”

Abby turns back to the two men behind her. “Who would like to go first?”

The opponents stare at each other for a long moment with hushed whispers then Jaha nods once at Kane. And with that, the scruffy man steps forward. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I don’t want to repeat what Abby here just said.” He motions to the woman to his right with a hand and a short laugh. “So we don’t keep you here any longer than need be. My main objective as Chancellor will be to rebuild our relationship with the twelve clans.”

Two people boo him in the audience, forcing him to silence his speech for a few moments. During this lapse, opposing people begin to shout.

“The Coalition is bullshit!”

“They have killed so many of us!”

“We don’t trust the Commander!”

“Traitor!”

The comments alone make Clarke’s skin prickle with aggravation and she clamps her mouth shut to prevent a similar incident from happening like only a couple of hours ago. Kane projects louder and firmer to regain control of the room.  “I understand that this has been a dividing point for us, but recent events prove that not being a part of the Coalition is no longer an option. It has and always will be the best way that we will be safe and thrive in this land. They sent that army to protect us. The Commander and other leaders of the collation have always been fair and have gone out of their way to protect us. We can no longer be greedy; we must make relations with those around us. I already have a relationship with the Commander and other high ranking individuals in the Coalition to ensure our inclusion and safety. In the Coalition, we won’t be worrying about how we will grow as a community because we will have access to supply and land. And without it, we will continue to fail.” He pauses and scans his eyes meaningfully around the audience. “That’s all I have.”

When Kane back steps a few feet, Jaha glides forward. He is even more calm and collected than Clarke remembers. “The City of Light.” He states, resting for five seconds to skim around the room with a cunning smile. “That’s the key to our future I believe. No more pain. Pure bliss and clear thinking. And as your Chancellor once again, I will guide you into the City of Light. All you have to do is take…” He pauses to flick the chip out of the chest pocket on his jacket to display it to the audience. “This. Some of you have already joined me in the City of Light. As you may recall, Raven Reyes is now able to walk again after joining me!” As if that is her cue, Raven stands up to walk a couple steps in a line, earning applause from the audience. Jaha smiles smugly, “who else will join me? Thank you!”

Clarke rolls her eyes at his absurd rambling about the City of Light, _it doesn’t seem right._ But, it pings a memory in her head. She scans the crowd and finally spots Murphy sitting at the back corner table with his arms crossed and acting disinterested. _Same old Murphy._

“Now, you will have the opportunity to vote for your selected candidate.” Abby announces.  “We are all friends and respectful here to make this go quickly and fairly, we are going to raise our hands and take a vote. This way we can make sure everyone votes once and only once. Are there any issues with that?”

“If we are going to do it this way, can the candidates at least turn around? So they don’t know our vote?” Bryan requests from the middle of the crowd.

Kane and Jaha wordlessly rotate to face the plain white wall behind them. “Okay, let’s get started then. Does anyone have an issue with me counting the votes?”

Abby’s question is met with silence. “Very good. Hands up if you want Marcus Kane as our new chancellor?” There are creaks and swooshes in the air, including Clarke’s and Monty’s hands. Abby dots her finger in the air, counting each hand meticulously. Clarke risks a hurried scan of the room; it seems to be around half of the room. Her fingers curl and her pulse thuds rowdily against her skin. _It’s going to be close._

“That’s forty-three for Marcus Kane,” Abby announces once she finishes mouthing numbers inaudibly to herself. “Now, those in favor of Jaha as Chancellor, please raise your hand.”

In her head, Clarke crosses her fingers, hoping for the best. Worst case scenario, she has a back-up plan. That is if, Lexa can make it work. Her mother is going through the same motions and counting the hands in the air. And when she’s done, she breathes out. “And that is forty for Jaha.” On that announcement, the two candidates face the audience once again. “Let’s extend our congratulations to our new Chancellor, Marcus Kane!” Most of the audience claps and Kane respectfully extends his arm to shake hands with Jaha. Abby then pulls Kane into her arms. While most of the audience is parading out, Jaha smirks cautiously, almost in a daze at Clarke. She bolts out the door before she is yanked into a conversation with him.

Upon reaching a crossing in the hallways, someone snatches Clarke around a corner and roughly chucks her on the cold floor. No one can see them as Jasper stands over with a gun shaking in his hands as he aims it at her.

“Jasper,” she stammers out, tentatively raising her hands up to show she isn’t armed. Except for the knife in her boot. Her heart beats in an erratic rhythm as memories play like a nightmare before her eyes. Titus with a weak gun in his shaking, uncertain hands.  The distant memory of the gun shots rings in her ears.

“You killed Maya! You killed them all!” Jasper roars but beneath the fire in his eyes, they are raw with pain.

Rooms filled with bodies, children’s bodies, innocent lives come barreling back into Clarke’s mind. A memory that she thought had been fading. It shakes her insides and her stomach coils in an agonizing knot. “I’m sorry, Jasper. I’m sorry. I did what I had to, to save our people.”

“Bullshit!” He screams, shouldering the gun higher with still shaky hands. “They were innocent! They didn’t all have to die! But, Bellamy is right, people die when you’re in charge!”

“Clarke?” She registers different voices and multiple pairs of reverberating footsteps nearing but her and Jasper don’t break eye contact. In fear that he would snap that trigger.

Not two seconds later, his gun is knocked out of his hands and Lexa has him pinned to the wall with a sword to his throat and her left arm jammed against his chest. “Kill me, I don’t care!” He mutters at Lexa and she just presses the sword harder with her teeth bared.

“You okay, Princess?” Octavia asks as takes her hands and helps her to her feet. Indra and three guards have their swords drawn at boy pinned against the wall.

Clarke nods and rushes to Lexa’s side, stopping herself from impulsively grabbing her slightly shaky upper arm. Instead, she leans into her personal space and whispers, “Let him go, Lexa. I’m fine.”

“He had a gun to you, Clarke!” Lexa utters through clenched teeth, not removing her eyes from the boy pinned against the wall. “He wanted to kill one of his own people. And a leader to your people at that!”

“A leader that kills innocent people! She killed all of them! She’s a shit leader! This is your fault too, Commander.” Lexa hisses at that and presses the sword as hard as she can without forcefully breaking the skin.

Clarke keeps her hands at her sides, stepping as close as she can to the Commander without making physical contact. Close enough that the heat from the Commander’s boiling skin radiates onto Clarke. “Blood must not have blood remember?” She notices Lexa’s top lip quiver the slightest amount and her jaw twitch, silently telling her that this is personal. “Use your head, Commander.” _And not your heart_ hangs in the air between them.

Taking three seconds to process that, Lexa drops the sword from Jasper’s throat and only two drops of blood droop down his pale neck. When their eyes meet for the first time this morning, Clarke spots fear and self-blame in them, knowing that drew up the same tender memories for Lexa as well.

“What’s going on here?” Kane requests, with narrowed eyes and Abby right in his tow. His gaze widens when it spots the gun at Jasper’s feet and the drawn weapons.

Clarke opens her mouth to try to immediately defuse the situation but Octavia is quicker than her. “When we got here, Jasper had Clarke on the ground with a gun pointed at her. And we reacted.”

“Rightfully so.” Kane acknowledges, crossing his arms as he scowls down at the boy. “Is this true, Jasper?”

“Yup.” He pops, not caring about possible consequences. “Clarke deserves it. She— “

Abby stomps forward. “How dare you!  You think Clarke deserves to die? That is cruel! She has already been shot and thankfully recovered.” Kane puts his hand up in front of her, to prevent her from moving closer to the boy.

“Clarke committed genocide! That’s inhumane, Abby!” Jasper retorts.

“Clarke did what she had to do to lead our people! This is enough of this debate!”  Kane’s eyes snap between Abby and Jasper, both wearing unsatisfied expressions. His eyes soften into a fatherly concern, “Clarke, do you wish to press charges for attempted assault?”

_No harm was done and she can’t make these people hate her even more._ So, she shakes her head, “no, just take his gun but I don’t wish to press any charges.”

“Clarke…” Lexa and Abby say simultaneously, staring pleadingly at her.

Kane snatches the gun from the ground, “you’re free to go for now. But, we will be having a discussion about this later, Jasper.”

“Whatever, Chancellor Kane.” The immature boy mocks with a grumble and a roll of his eyes as he stomps past them and around the corner.

Kane and Abby watch him, shaking their heads in disbelief and exasperation before refocusing on the group in front of them. “Are you okay, Clarke? Do you need any medical attention?” The new Chancellor presses.

“I’m fine, I promise. Maybe a bruise on my back at the very worst.” As Clarke reassures them, Lexa is studying her out of the corner of her eye, examining for any injuries she might have missed. The Commander’s chest is still heaving heavier than normal, concealing the anger Clarke asked her to withhold.

Kane catches onto the Commander’s sideways watch of Clarke and raises his eyebrows a hair.  And Lexa attempts to simply ignore the man’s innuendo. “I believe congratulations are in order, Chancellor Kane.”

“Mochof, Commander.”  The reinstated leader bobs his head in a mix between a nod and a weak bow of his head.

With her sword tucked back into her belt, Indra steps around Clarke with her arm out stretched. “Congratulations, Marcus.” Kane immediately clasps the warrior’s forearm in the traditional grounder shaker.

“Let us discuss the thirteenth clan.” The Commander suggests. “All here are welcome to join the private discussion.”

“This way,” Kane rolls his hand in the direction down the hall, the same path they took just last night.

It requires much of Lexa’s will power to restrain herself from wrapping the blonde in her arms and burying her face in her hair. Unsure if it would be in attempt to comfort Clarke or comfort herself. However, she settles for walking side by side and allowing their shoulders to occasionally brush.

The small group enters in the same conference room as last night, returning to almost the same positions. With Kane and Abby on one side and Clarke and the Commander on the other, with Octavia and Indra standing several feet behind him.

When the silence lingers and a smirk expands across Kane’s lips, Clarke realizes how intimately close she and the Commander are standing. Her mom crosses her arms and rolls her eyes while Clarke scoots a good six inches away. Behind them, Octavia chuckles, struggling to cover her mouth and nose with her hand. Clarke snaps a piercing glare at her while Indra grabs her wrist and grunts inaudibly in Trigedasleng.

Ignoring the commotion behind her and the burning blush at her cheeks, the Commander juts her chin up and clears her throat. “As discussed last night, Skaikru can be reinstated as the thirteenth clan with your re-election.”

Recollecting himself, Kane’s smirk flattens into a neutral expression. “Yes, Commander. What needs to be done in order to be reinstated? Besides sacrificing our guns?”

“Tonight, your guns will be collected by the Coalition. To the best of your ability have them in one accessible location to make the process smoother. For your awareness and due to confusion in the past…” the Commander huffs out in annoyance through her teeth, “the members will be armed, while not heavily. This is for their protection and their distrust towards Skaikru. I’m sure you can understand that, Marcus.”

Kane nods, “yes of course, Heda. I will give them forewarning.”

The Commander’s fingers press lightly into the table between them but doesn’t lean over it. “And tomorrow night, you will be re-instated into the Coalition through a similar ceremony that you participated in during the Summit. Since you still wear the mark, it will go quicker than the last time. Chancellor Kane is the only required attendee but Clarke, Abby and whoever else is welcome to join.”

“I’ll be there, Commander.” Clarke tilts her head, observing a small knot of relief bowing through the Commander’s shoulders when she exhales.

“And I’ll be there too!” Abby adds abruptly, eyeing the two women apprehensively.

Once again, Kane remains oblivious to Abby’s reactions concerning the two women. He simply keeps his eyes focused on the Commander and the discussion at hand. “Is there anything else Commander?”

“No other requirements but I do have suggestions.” The Commander pauses courteously, in case the two Sky leaders had any objections. “Given Skaikru’s history and the inevitable anger that will arise during the clans upon the re-instatement, I propose that you build relationship with the other clans to show them that you are indeed trustworthy and an asset to the Coalition that they shouldn’t be afraid of.”

Kane and Abby communicate through their eyes and immediately nod. “That will be on our agenda. It seems as though Clarke may be a valued ambassador in Polis to at least start there. Let us know of any other suggestions that you may have, Commander.”

“I will, Chancellor. Tomorrow, we will leave for Polis at first light. Be ready then.”

“We will be ready then. If that is all, Abby and I must be going.” Kane adjusts the collar of his jacket, to prepare for the chill out side. “We agreed to escort groups to the battle fields to retrieve the bodies.”

“That is all I have. I was only going to request a tour of the Ark from Clarke, that is if she is free to do so” The Commander peaks sideways at the girl next to her, who responds with a silent nod.

Abby groans almost inaudibly, but Clarke doesn’t miss the rapid rise of her chest and the muscles in her mom’s neck straining. On the other hand, Kane is grinning widely by the open door. “Excellent! We will see you upon our return.”

With one final warily glance, Abby trails Kane out into the halls of Arkadia. Voices bounce down off the walls of the high halls before the doors creek and flutter shut.

“As much as I would love to spend more time with the two of you, I believe I know this place well enough to not need a tour. And I really don’t feel like spending more time here than necessary.” Octavia grumbles out and starts to step around mentor but is stopped with a snatch on her forearm.

The Commander half-rotates to the disagreement behind her. “It is okay, Indra. Your presence is unnecessary, allow this time to train with your second. If my memory serves me correctly, there is still improvement to be made.”

Clarke stifles a laugh at Lexa’s rebuttal to Octavia’s natural sassiness. Since she remained facing the table, Clarke misses the offended glower that the young warrior beams into the Commander.

“The Commander is right, Octavia. You have been missing days of training. Today, we will train harder for missed days.” The two women bow their head quickly before retreating out the doors with a muttering Octavia.

“Let’s get started on that tour, shall we?” Clarke barely takes half of a step before there is a hand on her forearm. Not gripping, but loosely there with a small amount of pressure asking _stay_.

For the first time today, their eyes lock deeply and personally. Unlike in the hallways, their eyes had to drop away and conceal their emotions. “Are you okay, Clarke?”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

Lexa’s eyes skim over her face, searching for any missed signs of inflicted pain to the girl’s spirit. Her hand releases Clarke’s arm and raises to thumb the fading scar on her forehead then through some locks of her hair. Flashes of the boy bearing the gun play in her eyes that morph into echoing screams of Clarke collapsed on the floor with blood spilling out. “Why?” Lexa croaks out. “Because of the mountain?”

“Yeah.” Clarke’s eyes drop to the ground and nudges the toe of her boot against the ground.

The common heaviness to the subject between them weighs in on Lexa’s chest. She is aware that the betrayal will never truly be forgotten but it seems as though it keeps getting thrown back in their faces. Between Emerson and this foolish boy, Jasper. “Do you truly feel safe here? Why didn’t you tell me about Bellamy?”

The question isn’t accusatory, it’s filled with worry and hurt. And it’s reflected in the emerald eyes staring openly at Clarke. “Because I knew you’d be upset and I didn’t want that to interfere with my argument to not wipe us out.”

The Commander nods shortly with a click of her jaw. “He is in jail now where he should be.”

Clarke sighs. “After I give you a tour, how about we finish this over supper. Just you and I?”

There is a brief moment before Lexa’s jaw relaxes and her lips flip up into a smile. She nods, contently this time. Clarke kisses the curled end of her mouth before tugging at her wrist.

They reluctantly drop physical contact outside of the room. Two of the Commander’s personal guards stand on either side of the mechanical door. Unmoving.

“This vicinity was designated conference rooms, similar to the room we were just in. Some bigger. Some smaller. Some with lots of monitors for specific meetings.” Clarke waves her left hand in a semi-circle over the two halls with windowless doors on each side.

“Different than our meeting rooms,” the Commander comments, especially referring to the foreign screens mounting the walls. “How many?”

Clarke blinks, counting in her head. “Five. Maybe six. In this section at least.”

The Commander nods, studying her surroundings- the modern hallways and rooms equipped with technology she does not understand. Their shoulders bump when Clarke unexpectedly turns at the sound of voices bouncing off walls and they come to a stop in front of one entirely open wall.

“And this is our cafeteria.” Clarke is half-facing Lexa and half-facing the expanse of the cafeteria. Still scattered with people at the bland long tables. Murmurs of the election vibrate through the room. Some conversations stop short when the Commander and Clarke are spotted. Jaha supporters throwing menacing glares at them, shaking their heads and gritting their teeth as they mumble insults that they cannot hear.

It’s challenging for the Commander to hold back at snarl, she is accustomed to this. People not supporting her decisions, not liking her. But, that’s the life of the Commander. In years of training, she iced it out and built up walls not to care. But, this is not a reaction or the treatment that Clarke deserves. At least Lexa’s people have always paid her with respect. The Sky People are eternally ungrateful.  

“Let’s go, I’ll bring you to the control room next.” A blend of dejection and frustration weighs in Clarke’s heavy voice.

Lexa wishes to intertwine their fingers during their walk down a narrowing hall and a short couple of stairs. Instead, she watches Clarke out of the corner of her eye and curls her fingers by her side. Her heart aching at the frown in Clarke’s brow and her crystalline eyes drooped to the ground  

A black door blends in at the bottom of several steps, only a thin strip of glass near the top of the door reveals a low glow light. Clarke lifts her eyes and reaches across Lexa to smack a button on the wall that snaps the door open. Lights of assorted colors flicker on black boxes and rectangles covering the walls and in rows lining the otherwise dark room. A faint ticking sensation tickles the skin on the back of her neck and beats below the surface.

“As you can see, this is the control room for all the technology that was on the ark such as the doors, computers, our climate system and other security related programs. A lot like…” Clarke’s voice falters when blue meets green.  No need to finish the sentence because Lexa thought of Mountain Men too. “There used to be a whole station dedicated to this and more but it didn’t make it to earth.”

“Griffin? Is that you?” A voice comes from around the corner, accompanied by a squeak of a chair.

Clarke tips her head for Lexa to follow her near the voice. “Yes, I’m just giving the Commander a tour of our home.”

Raven is grinning strangely joyful behind a row of monitors. “I don’t believe I have properly greeted you, Commander. Welcome back to Arkadia!”

The amiability and earnestness to Raven’s shocks both of the women. The last several encounters the Commander had with this Sky Girl, was extremely hostile because of Finn’s execution. “Thank you, Raven kom Skaikru. I’m glad to see the rest of your home.”

The ticking sensation soon becomes a steady beat on the back of the Commander’s neck. She doesn’t need to inspect with her fingers to know that it’s residing on the flame. Raven is tilting her head back, nodding slightly as if she is listening to someone invisible behind her.

Clarke scrunches her nose, assuming the strange behavior is due to the City of Light. “Raven, next time the Commander is here, can you give her a lesson on AI’s and this whole City of Light deal?”

This time the grin spreading across Raven’s face is practically sly. “I believe the Commander and I have much to discuss on that.  We will be ready for you next time, Commander.”

“Who is we? You and Jaha?” Clarke cuts back in, stepping closer until her hands are perched on the front of the desk.

“And a friend.” She shrugs with one shoulder. “You don’t know her. Yet.”

Blue eyes narrow into probing darts at the illusive girl in front of her. “Not from the Ark?”

“Nope.” Raven shakes her head, dropping back down into a chair in front of a computer. “But, she looks forward to meeting you, Commander.”

“Who is she? Is she from a clan?” The Commander questions impatiently, the beating on the back of her neck becoming more relentless.

“Her name is Allie, and she’s from the City of Light. But, I promise to teach you all of that the next time I see you.” Raven says dismissively, her attention reverting back to the monitor in front of her and her fingers back on the keys.

The Commander and Clarke share a long look until Clarke awkwardly says, “okay then. Let’s get on with the rest of the tour shall we?”

“See you later, Raven.”  Clarke says, dropping her gaze up and down the mechanic then guiding the Commander out of the room.

They hang a left down a wide hall with tall ceilings, an absorbed silence lingers between the two women as they both are undoubtedly reflecting on the odd encounter. Once a couple passes them, the Commander speaks up in a discreet composed tone. “Last time I am certain that she wanted me dead.”

“She did. It’s this whole City of Light thing.” Clarke comes to a stop in a narrowing hall with her arms folded over her chest. “She was acting odd. My mom was right.”

“We will find soon, for _our_ people’s sake.”

The emphasis on _our people_ brings Clarke back to the first time the Commander stated it in such a unified manner. Always compelling them to feel like a team. Equals. Clarke’s eyes revolve around the unit to regain her surroundings and to shake the image of Lexa kneeling before her out of her head. “These are the sleeping quarters that we are using for now. We have more sleeping quarters and more stations that are being reconstructed and fixed since they were damaged when the ark came down.”

Nodding, the Commander scans the area they are in. White doors line each of the walls, appearing to be the exact distance apart. “It is astounding that much of it survived the fall to the ground. There are more stations than this?”

Clarke steps back against the wall behind her. “The Ark was divided into different stations, similar to the Clans. Originally there were twelve stations. Four of them came down to Earth. Some stations are more damaged than others.”

_The ground and the sky aren’t so different after all_. “What station were you from?” Curiosity of Clarke’s past and upbringing plague Lexa’s mind. Wanting to know everything because it’s Clarke but is also intrigued because the Sky People are new and unique.

“This one. Alpha station.” Clarke gestures weakly with her hands and skimming her eyes around a place she once called home. Until she was betrayed for trying to save her people for the first time. “Before I was thrown in prison.”

“I see that you’ve healed,” a rough voice startles both women, neither hearing Murphy’s approaching footsteps.

The guards pivot towards the Sky Boy, with their hands on their swords. But, the Commander waves them to stand down.

“I did, thank you for being there that night, when you could. I haven’t forgotten that.” Clarke says sincerely.

“I didn’t have much of a choice in the first place, since her bald friend kidnapped me.” Murphy replies mostly light-heartedly and looks at Lexa as if she isn’t the Commander. _Never had been one for authority anyway._

If it had been anyone else, the Commander would have hissed at his disrespect towards her but this boy has been one of the few kind ones towards Clarke today. So, she dismisses it. “I apologize for that. Since then, Titus has been banished from my lands and you will not be harmed by him again. You are welcome in Polis anytime.”

He combs a few tangle strands of hair out of his face and nods barely. “Maybe. Better than here at least. I’m still searching for the girl I got separated from.”

Clarke cocks an eyebrow with a smirk and the Commander takes initiative. “If it can repay for Titus’s actions, I can send riders out looking for her if you cannot find her still.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

* * *

 

Silverware scrapes against their plates as they finish their supper in Lexa’s tent later that night. From the disrespectful glares to the uproars during the collection of Skaikru’s guns, the two leaders longed for a peaceful meal away from the Ark. Food had been gathered and prepared during their absence. Neither brought up Jasper or Bellamy, not wanting to pierce the bubble they formed. And for a while, they tried to act like a couple of girls instead of two powerful leaders. Lexa’s cheeks had burned like twilight when they spoke about Abby’s unanticipated discovery last night and Kane’s new knowledge of their relationship. It had Lexa wishing that it could be that simple between them.

A gust of wind pours through the tent, flickering the flames on the table and sending daggers through Clarke’s thin skin.  Her body spams with shivers causing her muscles to noticeably tense. “Did you look for warmer attire?” Lexa asks, her eyebrows scrunching together.

Clarke shrugs, “I couldn’t find much, this is only slightly warmer. We don’t have a wide variety of clothing since the Ark was climate controlled, the temperature hardly changed. So, I figured that I could find more suitable attire when we are back in Polis.”

The perkiness in Clarke’s tone gives Lexa hope that her stay in Polis will be longer than tomorrow night. “Does that mean that you will be staying in Polis?” She attempted to keep her voice level, not wanting to sound too eager or too hopeful.

“I think for now, it will be best for me to stay in Polis, rebuild relations with people there and other coalition leaders. And limit my trips here until people calm down at least.”

Lexa’s eyes glow like emerald in the sunlight when a smile splits across her face, reminding Clarke of the smile from their first time in bed together. It’s relief. It’s Lexa being happy that there is something for her and not just the Commander.

“Will you be warm enough tonight? Do you need me to send furs back with you?”

Clarke scoots back from the wooden table and Lexa’s eyes follow her intently. “I was thinking…” The Sky Girl stops next to the seated grounder, “that between the furs and your body,” her fingers pinch along the collars of Lexa’s fur coat, “that I might be warm enough.”

Lexa audibly gulps and the heat rises through her body. _She can definitely provide her warmth now._ “Are you spending the night here?”

“Is that okay?” Clarke asks, her pinky grazing along warm skin under Lexa’s coat.

“Yes.” Lexa’s voice cracks with the dryness of her mouth. “I may have extra clothes that you can sleep in, should be comfier than these at least.”

Again, Clarke’s heart swells at the little thoughtful gestures. It’s more than she has ever needed or asked for. Her hand smooths up from Lexa’s chest, up the side of her long slender neck to trace along her cheek bone and the sharp jaw bone. “I believe tonight I will sleep much better than the last.”

Lexa’s eyes are transfixed on the full lips in front of her and mumbles, “as will I.” Then, surges forward the last inch and a half to capture the perfect pink lips between hers. Something she has wanted to do the whole day. It’s quick but filled with passion and it has Clarke chasing her lips once Lexa detaches from the kiss.

“Allow me to get those clothes for you, so we can get in bed. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

While Lexa is ruffling through a small sack in the corner of her tent, Clarke stacks their plates and cups to place them neatly on the side of the table. A minute later, a pair of trousers and a long sleeve top is being dangled by her side. They both strip to change into clean comfortable attire and giggle about the sleeves hanging over Clarke’s hands and the pant legs dragging under her feet. And after Clarke agrees to braid Lexa’s hair in the morning, she allows Clarke to undo the intricate pattern before they lie down.

As Clarke unweaves the last braid and gently tugs through some of the dark knots at the back of her head. She says softly “I remember the first time I saw you with your hair down, the night you thanked me after your fight with Roan. You took my breath away.”

There is a couple seconds pause where Lexa neck and cheeks are burning like a summer’s day and her heart is thudding against her ribs. Lexa tries to find her voice lodged in her throat but then Clarke continues. “It took all my will power not to kiss you.”

Lexa fiddles with the ends of her hair that are draped over her shoulder. “I wanted to look beautiful for you that night.” Her voice comes out as so small and vulnerable, she doesn’t dare add how her heart shattered under Clarke’ words that night and that she started to lose all hope for them.

Clarke presses her lips to the infinity tattoo at the base of her neck then to where her neck meets her shoulder. Lexa dips her head down and catches Clarke’s lips when they disconnect from her skin. It’s incredibly loving and gentle, their lips brushing to take a bottom lip then a top lip.

Emerald and crystalline melt together for a moment until Clarke pulls on Lexa’s waist, leaning her back to lie down on the furs. “Let’s get some sleep, Heda.”

They both kick under the furs and shuffle until they are pressed up against each other. Remembering that Clarke was in need of warmth, Lexa rolls on her back then snakes an arm around her shoulders until Clarke is curled against her side. A blonde head is tucked into her neck and Lexa rests her cheek on top of the soft head after kissing it. Clarke happily sighs and sneaks her hand under Lexa’s dark gray top, rubbing soothing circles around her stomach and chest. Goosebumps wake under her hands and she occasionally grazes over a rough scar here and there. Never as many as she would have expected for a Commander.

Neither girl was overly-tired to begin with and take a while to succumb to sleep but wanted to lie beneath furs and share body heat. Lexa’s fingers trace light patterns over the girl’s clothed shoulder as questions of her past fumble around in her mind. But, she keeps them on reserve for another time.

 


	12. The 13th Clan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skaikru rejoins the Coalition and begins amends with the clans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all that continue to follow this story! And don't worry, I won't abandon it. I love writing for these two too much. Plus I have a clear path in mind. Happy reading :)

Voices reemerge after Kane rises back to his feet upon completing the re-initiation ritual. As Chancellor and official leader of Skaikru, he had to re-pledge and swear himself back on his knees in front of the Commander. Even before the ceremony, the anticipated voices had spit their concerns and disputes.

“They pledged their loyalty last time, yet they still rejected the Coalition and attacked us! How do we know they will stay true this time?” Chel protests, waving her hand at Kane and Indra stands impassive by her side, saying nothing.

Kane looks up at the Commander, standing in front of her throne, and silently requests that he address the audience instead. She gives a small nod for him to take control. “I assure all of you that Skaikru’s loyalty is solely with the Coalition and the Commander. The misguided individuals, who brought harm to any of you, have paid for their actions with their life or are in confinement. Our remaining people are focused on peace by rebuilding trust and relationships with all clans of the Coalition.”

“And how do you plan to repair that damage?” Farho growls from the far end of the room, his hands clenched into light fists at his sides.

To his right, Roan snaps his eyes disapprovingly at his ambassador. “What will come to those in cages from battle? Will they be punished? Where do their loyalties stand?” The King’s questions are solid and logical and lack the hostility of his ambassador’s voice.

When Kane stays silent and nervously glances back up to the Commander for support, Clarke’s shoulders strain back and her fingers curl into her palms. Unsure of what the answer will be and unsure of why she cares for the murderous traitors locked behind bars. For a split second, the Commander meets her eyes. And in that moment Clarke relaxes and all can think is how stunning the Commander looks in her black and maroon initiation dress with the black strap at her waist. The one she wore when Wanheda bowed before the Commander in this room. It is such a stark contrast to her normal heavy gear, this accentuates her beautiful bones that are wrapped in lean but dense muscle.

“That decision will be made with the clan ambassadors and the war council in the coming days. And if necessary, their loyalties will be reassessed.” The Commander declares with authority and absolute confidence.

“What of Wanheda and this Skai raunon?” An ambassador probes through a clenched jaw and tilts their head at Abby.

The older woman becomes flustered and speechless at the intimidation. But, it doesn’t waver Clarke an ounce. “My loyalties have remained with the Coalition even when my own clan rejected the coalition. I have knelt before the Commander as Wanheda and knelt alongside all of you. And that is where my loyalties will remain.”

The Commander stares absorbedly at the Skaikru leader holding her ground, not permitting her stare to fall into an awe-struck gaze. But, she is immensely proud of the resilient leader that Clarke has constantly morphed into. Her heart and head finding the perfect balance.

With a tip of her jaw away from the blonde, the Commander augments Clarke’s testimony. “Wanheda has indeed proven her loyalty to me and to the Coalition on a multitude of levels. Abby kom Skaikru has effectively sworn her loyalty this time and last at the side of Marcus Kane. Any further questions and concerns will be dealt with in the official meetings tomorrow. Tonight we will celebrate our victory on the battle field and the unity of the thirteen clans.”

A few prolonged unenthusiastic glances bounce through the room. But, most faces are painted with neutral acceptances.

“You are dismissed to join the festivities in the city center.” The Commander flicks her hand in the air.

* * *

 

 When the Commander joins the festivity down below, drums are pounding in the air in conjunction with laughter and singing. She had to allow time to change out of her initiation gown into a formal coat with thick fur lining the insides. There is one long wooden table elevated in the front of the celebration grounds that is lined with the clan ambassadors and their leaders with an open space in the middle that sits the Commander’s throne. And as instructed, Clarke sits directly to the right of it. But, she doesn’t notice Lexa arriving since her head is turned away and is engaged in a conversation with Kane and the Podakru ambassador.

People of all rankings bow their heads for the Commander as she strolls through the opening crowd. Enormous plates of food pack their table and the small round tables scattered around the dirt grounds.  The voices and drums simmer down as more people spot the Commander stepping in front of her throne.  It’s the ambassador bowing his that compels Clarke to twist her head to the regal woman standing next to her.

A young boy, no more than twelve, appears in front of the Commander with a tall bottle and he carefully pours the red liquid into the goblet on the table.

“Mochof,” the Commander whispers and the boy shuffles away.

The crowd has fallen almost completely silent, with a couple of murmurs and some stragglers stomping into the celebration. Lexa lifts her bronze goblet high in the air, “Let us drink together to celebrate our victory against Skaikru and the re-initiation of Skaikru as the thirteenth clan!”

With the exception of a few, everyone raises their goblets and glasses in the air with shouts of approval. The Commander dips her goblet down to meet Clarke’s in the middle with a clink. Mounds of food are passed along the table and piled on plates. Abby leans over Kane to meet Clarke with wide eyes, never having seen so much juicy meat and fresh food before. The food on the Ark was bland at best and the Sky People’s assets and skills are not up to par to gather good food. Since Clarke’s arrival in Polis months ago, she has been treated to delicious meals on a daily basis. But tonight has outdone all of her previous experiences.

About half way through her turkey and vegetables, Clarke sees Murphy run across the grounds to unite with a girl in the middle. He immediately wraps his arms around her and kisses the side of her head. Clarke raises her eyebrows; she has never seen Murphy display any affection or emotions.

“It appears that Murphy has found the person he was searching for,” Lexa comments, tracking Clarke’s eye line.

“It’s shocking. Murphy has always been pretty aloof and acts like he doesn’t care about anyone or anything. I have never seen him display an ounce of emotion.” Clarke continues to watch as he detaches from the girl. From her facial tattoo, Clarke instantly recognizes her as Trikru but had never seen her in any villages that they had come across. Murphy slinks an arm over her slender shoulders and guides her back to the table he had been sitting at. Before he had been slumped down in his wooden chair with a frown in his forehead. Now, there is light to his eyes and a smile.

“People can surprise you behind closed doors.” Lexa states after a moment of staring at Clarke and places a bite of food in her mouth.

The statement draws Clarke’s eyes back to Lexa and she brings the goblet to her lips to veil her flirty smile. But, Lexa doesn’t miss it, she sees the upturn of her lips and the twinkle in the blue eyes. And she has to force her eyes away so she doesn’t openly gaze at the girl next to her as her stomach erupts in a fluttery mess.

After faces are stuffed and mulled wine is pumping through their veins, people are springing from their seats and swinging a partner into a dance. The beats of drums echo in the air once again, joined with slurred singing. Abby takes Kane’s outstretched hand and allows him to lead her into the dancing crowd

Clarke can’t help but grin when her mom is smiling and laughing when Kane spins her around. It has been so long since she has seen her mom beam like that. Even if she hasn’t completely forgiven her for getting her dad floated, it still makes her happy to see that.

“How about this dance, Wanheda?” Roan’s tall broad stature blocks her view of the couple, his lips tipped up into a mostly joking smile. Unsure if it is to poke a joke at her or at the Commander, as soon as his eyes flit over to Lexa shifting uncomfortably in her throne and straightening her posture.

“I don’t dance with people who drag me along the ground and dunk my head under water.” Clarke retorts, leaning back against the wooden chair with her arms folded lightly over her chest.

A grin stretches his lips, “And I prefer partners who bathe and don’t dye their hair with berries from the forest.”

“Good thing you aren’t my type either.” Clarke scrunches her nose in feign disgust.

His eyes quickly dart back over to the Commander, who is sitting with her back erect and her eyes focused on the dancing crowd. Pretending she’s not listening to the playful banter next to her. “I know; trade post girls are your type.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke notices Lexa’s jaw twitch and her fingers rewrap around the goblet tighter. And it is becoming increasingly clear that the King came over to continue their banter and prod around the Commander.

Perhaps he is aware that he is crossing into delicate territory with the Commander because he ends it there. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the meetings, Wanheda.” Then tips his head down, “Commander.”

“King Roan.” The Commander acknowledges flatly, hardly tolerating him a glance as he continues down the row to speak with other clan leaders.

Clarke grabs the bottle in front of Lexa and pours herself another glass of the mulled wine then leans over and fills up the rest of Lexa’s goblet. Apologetic green eyes glimmer at her, not needing to say anything for Clarke to know what’s on her mind.

“Maybe someday,” Clarke offers, her expression a little more hopeful than that day.

That tugs at Lexa’s lips and she raises her goblet in between them. “Someday.”

Clarke conceals the smile threatening to break through and lifts her goblet to clink against Lexa’s. Drinking to their tentative someday but when they look upon the few Sky People re-bonding with the other clans, they have a little more hope in their hearts. Until Clarke’s eyes fall upon a familiar brunette with a marked face, sitting three tables from the front and examining them closely. Without Nia, Clarke wonders what Ontari is possibly up to. _Is she still someone’s pawn? Roan’s? Another Azgeda?_

If Lexa has noticed her, she hasn’t said anything or reacted. Clarke downs the rest of her drink, blinking hard when her mind takes a small whirl and her pulse rate picks up. That doesn’t stop her from pouring another glass full of the red liquid to help ignore the intimidating young girl, who smeared her black blood on her face.

The leader’s table has become fairly vacant as they have roamed around to chat amongst others or are simply enjoying the celebration. Tonight, Clarke is going to allow her mom and Kane make those relations between dances. And she is going to let herself appreciate the feel of the alcohol coursing through her veins without any pressure.

* * *

 

Gradually, Clarke’s racing heart mellows to a strong rhythmic beat below Lexa’s ear. She nuzzles her head deeper into Clarke’s bare chest, avoiding bumping against the hard sensitive nipple. Their sex might have been a little fumbled with the wine swirling and making them less coordinated. But, between the stumbles, the bumps and the giggles, it was just as loving and gentle as usual. And this is the first time they have truly been able to lie like this after sex. Skin against skin. Bare legs tangled together. No interruptions this time. No rushing off to their duties. Or bullets.

Lexa trails her fingertips up the valley between Clarke’s breasts, up her chest and over to her right collarbone. Unlike the rest of her smooth creamy skin, it’s raised and rough. Her heart clenches at it and she rolls her head an inch to kiss Clarke’s chest long and softly.

Clarke’s fingers, that had been idly tracing along Lexa’s spine, dip down lower and she sprawls out her palm on her lower back to pull the girl closer. Maybe it’s the fact their skin is pressed so tightly together that they can feel each other’s heart beats in their bones. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. But, the questions that have been bouncing around in Lexa’s head finally fall to her lips.

“Clarke?”

“Mhm?” Her hum vibrates against Lexa’s ear.

A few nerves start to kick back in but Lexa swallows those away. “If you grew up in the Alpha station, is the room you grew up in still there?”

Clarke blinks hard a couple of times, “yeah. It is. Why?”

“Next time we are visiting Arkadia, can y-will you show it to me?” She bites the inside of her lip after she awkwardly stumbles over her words.

Strands of hair poke out of Lexa’s now messy loose braids and tickle Clarke’s nose. Her fingers had gotten caught in the ties of hair several times while she had desperately dug the woman closer when she drove her crazy with her mouth and tongue. She smooths her hair down and pulls out one braid and drops the bead on the furs.

 “Sure, I didn’t think that would interest you.”

“Anything that involves you interests me, Klark.”

The heavy accent and hard ‘k’ click sends a rush of heat down to Clarke’s stomach. As it always does. “After Raven gives us our technology lesson next time, I’ll show you. And hopefully she is acting less odd next time.”

Lexa smirks against her chest. “I don’t know, it’s relieving not having her resent me and wish me dead.”

Clarke chuckles. “She wanted me dead just as much.”

“Why? Because of Finn?”

Below her, Lexa feels Clarke tense and she slips her arm around her waist to hug her close. “He was hers.” Clarke admits weakly, slightly embarrassed at the confession.

Lexa’s forehead winkles and she lifts her head, resting her chin in Clarke’s chest to look at her. “I thought…”

“So did I,” Clarke nods sadly with a sigh. “Then Raven came to Earth and I found out everything wasn’t true.”

More than ever, Lexa wishes she were the one to deliver that blow through his heart. Clarke doesn’t deserve to live with double the pain. Her hand drifts up to cradle a warm cheek then brushes her thumb gently over her deep cheek bone. “Before,” Lexa nervously starts and doesn’t dare say his name, “was there anyone else that was special to you?”

“On the Ark?” Clarke’s eyebrows bunch slightly together until Lexa nods. “I kissed a few boys and a few girls before they locked me up. Had crushes and fleeting feelings. But I wouldn’t say use _special_ or _love_ for any of them. Not _special_ like you.”

Lexa dips her face down in Clarke’s chest to try to hide her beaming toothy grin but it doesn’t work. Clarke can feel it against her skin and can feel the rapid beat of her heart pressed against her side. And Clarke knows she shouldn’t ask but she wants to know. “How about you? Was there anyone special before…” And just as Lexa did, Clarke stops herself, not wanting to say _that_ name.

“No,” Lexa answers in whispered breath, shaking her head. “Once in a while there was a pretty girl, but she was the only one…ever. Until dropped out of the sky.”

Clarke squeezes Lexa’s side, her pinky falling into the divot of her hip bone. “And before you were brought to Polis as a Natblida?”

“I remember fragments of the village where I came from and my parents but it was destroyed during one of the wars between the clans. The village was close to TonDC, however.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke whispers into her hair.

“It’s okay, Clarke.” Lexa sighs dismissively. “The dead are-. “

 “Gone and the living are hungry.” Clarke finishes for her.

Something about Clarke remembering their ways and little details always makes Lexa smirk. But, she lets her eyes flicker down to kiss swollen lips and leans up in Clarke’s arms. The soft connection of their lips quickly turns deep with tongues gliding together and searching for more contact. Lexa’s wiggles and climbs on top of her but Clarke grips her hip and rolls them over. Lexa unleashes a sound between a squeal and a gasp, the most human sound Clarke has ever heard from her. Lexa surrenders herself to the weight of the woman on top of her, the only person she trusts to give complete control to.

* * *

 

By midday, Clarke finds herself climbing down the countless flights of stairs to the lowest parts of the tower. Even after the meetings for the day and Lexa’s personal objections, Clarke knew in her gut she had to at least do this for herself. As usual, two guards shadow closely behind her as she awaits the dungeon doors to be open for her.

The cages are fuller than when she visited Titus, but it’s just dark and murky as she remembers. Heads start to turn in her direction, many are faces that she recognizes. Covered with dirt and crusty blood, never had a chance to clean up after battle. They shake their heads and turn their backs, clearly blaming her for their predicament. _Nothing new._

She stops in front of the very last cage, barred around the back wall. Bellamy shuffles uncoordinatedly towards Clarke, his curly hair sticks to his forehead from grime and sweat. And some blood stains his shirt and coat. As he opens his mouth, Clarke cuts him off, “I didn’t come here to make amends, Bellamy. So save your apologizes and fucking listen to me.”

His mouth closes and he hangs his head and nods.

“Just what the hell is wrong with you? How could you just blindly follow Pike? I thought at least after you massacred that innocent army and rejected the Coalition that you would pull your head out of your ass and do what was right!”

“I did what I thought was right, Clarke!” He grinds his teeth and releases the bars to step back a foot.

“You did what you thought was right?” She bares her teeth right back at him. “You killed innocent people for no reason!”

The older boy stomps back up to the bars, forcing his shoulders back to appear taller than he is. “You have killed innocent people too; you were doing what was right for our people! Like I was!”

Although, Clarke finches inside at his words, she doesn’t allow herself to be intimated by him again. She doesn’t move a step and holds his steely eyes. “Mountain Weather, we had no other choice. We saved over forty of our people. You had a choice. You chose to slaughter an army that was sent there to protect us in the middle of the night, when they were sleeping like the coward you are.” His face begins to drop at her words but that doesn’t stop her. “But, you don’t stop there, even after you knew that those people were there to protect you. You try to imprison me, when I fucking trusted you! You ruined everything that I built and worked for, everything that I was doing for our people! We would have been wiped out if it weren’t for me. Then once again you follow Pike and attack the blockade, killing even more of our people! How many people are left, Bellamy? How many!”

He shakes his head at the ground and his hands slip off the steel bars, “I don’t know, Clarke. I’m sorry okay? I messed up.”

“You’re damn right you messed up. All those deaths are on your hands, Skaikru, Trikru and the other grounders. It will haunt you, that’s the worst punishment of all.”

Still, not meeting her eyes and dangling his arms at his sides. His voice has weakened into defeat and acceptance.  “What’s going to happen to us? I know there’s going to be some sort of punishment.”

Clarke shrugs and crosses her arms coldly, “I don’t know. Some clan leaders are calling for your blood because they want vengeance.” He squeezes his eyes tightly and pinches the bridge of this nose. “But you’re lucky, Lexa wouldn’t allow it because of ou-her new way blood must not have blood. So, other’s asked for physical punishments, banishments but nothing has been decided. Just don’t expect to be getting out of here anytime soon.”

“Where’s Octavia?” He asks after taking a minute to absorb the information.

“She doesn’t want to see you,” Clarke sneers, making him frown and his eyes droop. “Either did I and I still don’t because just looking at you makes me angry still. But, I had to come down here and get this off my chest.”

He back steps to the wall behind him with his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry, Clarke. I don’t know what else to say.”

Clarke shakes her head, “And I don’t have anything else to say to you.” And turns hard on her heels to march out of the dungeon.

* * *

 

Lexa cross-steps swiftly and strikes Aden’s training stick to the ground. His eyes widen at the force of the blow, grunting and scrambling for his blunt weapon on the ground.

“You’re doing well, Aden.” Lexa breathes out while trying to catch her breath and she sinks her stick to her side. “I’m going harder on you because I know you can handle it.”

His sandy blonde hair is glued to his forehead from his sweat and he stands up straighter, getting taller by the day. “Thank you, Lexa. I hope one day to be as good as you.”

She smiles at the young boy then squeezes his shoulder, “You will be, Aden. You are better than I was before my conclave and you will be more than ready for when your conclave happens.”

“If the conclave happens…”

The boy possesses too much naïve optimism; she was much like that at his age. But, she grew up in a time of war and much less peace than there is now. For now, she doesn’t knock down that optimism because yesterday there was a celebration and maybe there will be graced with peace once again.

Her attention is drawn to Lincoln training with two Natblidas on the far end of the dirt training grounds. He is spinning two sticks, one in each hand, to block attacks from both sides. But, with a low blow at his knees and one at his shoulder, the tall muscular warrior is knocked to the ground.

The Commander grins proudly at her two Natblidas standing triumphantly together and walks over to congratulate them. “Good work! Bringing the Fleimkepa down is surely a feat.”

Lincoln shoves back up on his feet and brushes off the dirt layering his jacket. “These young warriors get more impressive every day.”

“Can you and Lincoln train together while we observe?” A Natblida requests, joining the small circle they have formed in the corner under a bare tree.

When their eyes lock, Lincoln nods at the Commander. “Next time, we will engage in a friendly combat and you may observe our techniques. For the remainder of the day, let’s gather inside, it will snow soon.” The group follows her eye line to the grey clouds drifting from the north, the storm will hit by late night or early morning.  Since standing stationary, her sweat has begun to soak deep into her chest and neck, seeping into her stiffening muscles and covering her skin in goosebumps.

The Commander leads the small parade up the short flight of steps to the entrance of the tower across the courtyard. Beside her, Lincoln has remained silent for the past minute or so. “Where is Octavia? In the past, she has enjoyed attending these training sessions.”

“She was training with Indra earlier then they planned to join Kane and Abby in the markets, ensuring their safety and guidance during amends.” Lexa nods in acknowledgment, her hands clasped behind her back.

“How are the other clans reacting to the addition of Skaikru again?” Aden catches up on her other side, leaving his fellow Natblidas trailing behind them.

“As expected, nothing that can’t be handled or fixed. This is our chance as peace, Aden.” The Commander stares fondly over her shoulder at the young boy. “Skaikru is working hard on their amends, rebuilding their relationships with our people. They have much to offer us in return.”

There is a set of double doors as a side entrance into the tower that are tugged open by the two standing guards. And the group of Natblidas have nearly caught up with the three leaders by the time they reach the base of the tower.

“When you were awat in battle, Clarke said that you may learn Skaikru information that could be tied to our people’s past?” The boy’s question slows the Commander’s and Lincoln’s steps to a stop, before they can enter the lift.

“Next time, Aden. I promise. When I learn more of these beliefs and theories, I will pass them along to Lincoln and each one of my Natblidas.” And she swears this by making eye contact with each of the young eyes gathering around her.

“Where’s Clarke?” Alista asks softly from the back of the small group.

Lexa opens her mouth but more questions and comments are blurted out.

“We want more stories!” Liam pouts.

The last eager demand draws a grin across her chapped lips. “She told you stories?”

“After our lesson with her, she told us stories of the moon and the stars!

Muscles in her upper body loosen a notch when a delighted warmth spreads from her stomach through her chest. It’s a comfort and easiness that she doesn’t think she has ever felt in her life. “If Clarke agrees, I’ll have her join us next time to tell you more stories. Only if you train hard!

The encouragement has the young kids bouncing on their toes with smiles plastered across their faces. When she was a Natblida, they hardly received positive encouragement and they were rarely given a reason to smile like the other kids their age. Lexa didn’t want _her_ Natblidas to live like that. And in the last several months, she has had her own reasons for wanting to make them smile and give them a little hope.

“Does Octavia have stories too?”

Lincoln does something between a nod and a shake of his head and there is a slight stiffness to his voice, “Not as good or as many as Clarke does.”

Sensing the uneasiness to the subject and not wanting to shed more bad light on Skaikru, the Commander straightens her posture and motions for the Natblidas to follow her to the lift. But, the comments behind her burn on her ears.

“Klark is meizen!”

“I wonder if she has a…” the young boy struggles for the English word for a second, “sadrona.”

“I think…” then something is whispered to softly for Lexa to hear.

* * *

 

Roan and other Azgeda leaders requested an individual meeting with the Commander after the Natblidas departed. For guidance and support, Lincoln stood beside her throne throughout. And for the most part, the Commander remained apathetic and diplomatic while the ambassador and important royal relations ran their tongues about Skaikru and her apparent weakness. More than once, Lexa had to raise her hand up to stop Lincoln from uncharacteristically growling in her defense.

It would only make their case of her weakness stronger and they weren’t directly threatening Clarke’s life. Since all of it is pure speculation. Roan’s neutrality added to her reasons to not lash out. While he did not say anything positive about Clarke or Skaikru, he stayed relatively silent and occasionally stopped his subjects from speaking too harshly.

After nearly an hour, they reluctantly halt their criticisms when the Commander does not budge or consider sanctions for the new thirteenth clan. Roan stays behind while his fellow Azgedas storms out the door and he waits as the Commander rises from her throne.

“Not all my people share my indifference about Skaikru rejoining the Coalition, I have attempted to keep their tempers under control.”

The Commander holds her head high with her chin jutted up in authority. But, her eyebrow twitches at the King’s statement. “And what has made you indifferent about this whole ordeal? Your mother was never supportive of any of my decisions or rulings.”

“I’m not my mother.” Roan states with an extra bite to his words. “Besides, I don’t see Skaikru as a threat without their weapons. We greatly out number them, as proven on the battle field. I’m sure they are aware of this. Unlike the Mountain Men, we could take advantage of their advancement and learn from it for our people.”

She stops about two feet away from him, nodding once. “Those are my intentions. We will not live in fear of them. Clarke has begun making arrangements for their knowledge to be shared, I hope all clan leaders will seize this opportunity as well.”

“I will speak with Wanheda tomorrow in regards to those matters. I’m not so sure that my subjects will be joining me to do so. But, I like to think Wanheda and I get along after our bonding activity.”

The memory tightens her chest and squeezes her heart. _A disheveled blonde thrown on her knees in this very room with blood dried cuts and bruises lining her face. The hate spewing in her hardened blue eyes and the venomous words spit at her._ A time she wishes to never relive.

“What of Ontari? I suppose she has no plans to join the Natblida training?”

“She was under my mother’s thumb. I do not have that sort of control over her. She is probably still disappointed that I didn’t take your head during our fight to the death and therefore ruined their plans for Azgeda to take command. But, don’t worry, she won’t be a threat to Clarke again.”

While his words aren’t tormenting or venomous, they stiffen in her bones and compel Lexa to puff out her chest. That had always been a concern for her but with Roan’s lack of control over Ontari, it is somehow worse now.

With her lack of response, the King surprisingly relaxes the air between them. “I suppose you could say we are even.”

The Commander narrows her eyes at him in confusion and he clarifies. “For failing to lift my banishment but then sparing my life and throwing the spear through my mother’s heart, making me King.”

“Your mother was an unfit leader for my Coalition.” She responds more coldly than he probably expected. “You are a much better fit as we can see.”

“It wasn’t all for me or the Coalition. It was for _her.”_ His eyes hold tightly onto the Commander’s _knowing_ he is hitting a deep spot. “Revenge.”

She has to avert he eyes, her lungs still seething slightly but it no longer reaches her chest or lips. Costia’s head by her bedside blurs in her head; the pit in her stomach and the hollowness and rawness in her throat from sobs return faintly. But, all of that is lifted when she remembers the spear soaring through the air into the heart of her enemy. It closed that wound like the stitches did on her hand.

“Then your eyes sought out Wanheda in the crowd.”

His words snap her back to reality and she stares back, unwilling to give it away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Meizen: beautiful/pretty  
> Sadrona: significant other/girlfriend/boyfriend/lover


	13. Repairs Take Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a slight surprise for Clarke in the morning before they tend to meetings and make decisions on punishments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it has been so long! Life really caught up with me. I will update more frequently in the future, promise!

From years of routine, Lexa’s internal clock itches her to stir awake. She had always awoken hours before meetings, so she could read or meditate. Now, her eyes linger shut to allow herself to melt into the arms bound around her waist. A small, yet strong hand pressed against her sternum, as if feeling her heart beat. There is nothing more therapeutic than this early moment with Clarke.

Lexa rolls slowly and smoothly in the other girl’s arms, not wanting to her wake her just yet. The movement only causes Clarke to shift in her sleep, her arms loosening from their previous tight protective hold. Before Lexa settles down into her new position, she catches a glimpse white dust falling outside the window. She smiles and knows Clarke would want to see this.

Her fingers brush hairs out of Clarke’s face and drooping mouth then leans down to press her lips to the corner of her eye. “Clarke.” She says barely above a breath.

The sleeping girl groans, mumbling incoherently and retightens her hold around Lexa’s slender waist.

“Hodnes,” Lexa whispers this time through a smile, trailing her fingers along Clarke’s hairline then down the side of her face. “There is something I wish to show you.”

There is a slight flutter in the eyelashes, but she is yet to be graced with beautiful blue eyes. Then a louder, tired groan rumbles out of Clarke’s dry throat. Lexa tips back down, pecking her cheek then sweeps her lips against Clarke’s. She presses her lips firmer and more frequently until she receives a response.

Clarke pouts her lips and scrunches her nose when Lexa breaks the kiss far too soon. Finally, her eyes creak open to Lexa propped up on an elbow gazing down at her with the adoring turns of her lips.

“Come,” Lexa requests, tugging gently on the other girl’s hand until the furs fall away from their bodies and they are on their feet. Their hands stay linked together as Lexa leads them on the balcony, that is already dusted in a thin white sheet.

Clarke gasps, “is it really snowing?”

“I know it might be a little cold…but I thought you would enjoy it,” their fingers squeeze together while Lexa stares down at the girl in wonder. Blue eyes blown wide open, shinning brighter than the sun has in days.  

Clarke steps closer to the edge of the balcony, her fingers just barely holding onto Lexa’s icy fingers. The snow is starting to seep through her socks, driving freezing spikes through the bottom of her feet. Still, she skims the snow covering the balcony wall. Its softer than ice but still firm enough to create small shapes with her fingers. She could make art with this snow.

Snowflakes continue to fall into her hair and stick to her nose, Clarke breathes out blissfully and tips her attention to the ground below them. The powder blankets the streets and the roofs of houses in the distance. A few citizens are trudging out of their houses. Snow is swirled around branches and tree trunks, bringing light to a dull dark expanse.

The two fingers still tied to the woman’s behind her, give a single tug. Then arms circle around her from behind. “It’s beautiful,” Clarke whispers, leaning an inch back into the mute warmth.

“Cold,” Lexa agrees shakily. “But, yes. Beautiful.”

Clarke pivots a step, snuggling her side against Lexa’s front and coiling her stiff frozen fingers into the fabric of the woman’s top. Lexa mimics her actions, slipping her fingers into the material of Clarke’s sleep shirt then rests her cheek on her head. A few shivers rattle through Clarke’s spine and Lexa curls her arm tighter around her waist.

“Remember to dress warmly today.” Lexa reminds her caringly. “Gloves are a must.” She adds, taking note of the fingers hiding in the folds of her top.

Only a small amount of heat has formed between the proximity of their bodies but Clarke is sure that every ounce has crept into her bones. “How does your meeting schedule look today?”

Lexa sighs, their fleeting moment gone as she is reminded of their duties. “I will be dealing with consequences of the prisoners.” A pause, her mind reverting back to the day she placed the kill order on Skaikru.  She whispers the words she wanted to that fateful day, “I’ll do the best I can, Clarke.”

There is a hint of anxiety bound into the softness of Lexa’s tone, Clarke squeezes her waist in a short hug. “I know.”

“Send for me if you face any hostility during your meetings, I’ll— “

Clarke cuts the Commander off by nodding her head off hers and connecting their eyes. “I’ll be fine. I am Wanheda, they do not frighten me. Just as I did not allow you to intimidate me in our first encounter.”

Lexa raises her eyebrows at that and Clarke smiles, tapping her fingers at the corner of the woman’s sharp jaw.

“But, I promise, I will send for you if someone is able to intimidate me.”

 

* * *

 

In one of the small council rooms, Clarke sits at a standard rectangular wooden table with familiar sea-green eyes staring back at her and his arm resting on the table.

“So, Wanheda…”

“King Roan,” she tilts her head to the side, not revealing anything with her even professional tone.

His lips curl and part, “you make it difficult to tell if you are being condescending or not.”

Clarke lets out a rapid chuckle. “I’m not. Would much rather be saying King Roan than Queen Nia.”

He glances at his hand on the table with a single nod then flashes back to Clarke. “And I won’t make you regret that statement. I have no intentions of harming Lexa in that way. I’m not after her power, I don’t see that as the direction I want for my people.”

While suppressing the desire to avert her eyes, Clarke tilts her chin up and maintains eye contact, needing to appear strong. _Love is not weakness._ “I am concerned with the survival of Skaikru. We are here to discuss peace between our people.”

“I know the Commander is of concern to you as well. As you are to her.”

“We have advanced technology,” Clarke raises her voice several notches, gaining power and not permitting this conversation to turn personal. “That is much more advanced than the Mountain Men. I know that has been of distress to Azgeda and the other clans. We don’t want you to fear us, so we are willing to share and teach this knowledge.”

A knock followed by a loud squeak of the wooden door interrupts their conversation. “Sorry we’re late,” Kane announces upon entering the room, followed by Abby. “We got caught up discussing details in another meeting.”

The King doesn’t stand up to greet them nor is it expected of him, he simply turns his head and nods in acknowledgment of their apology.

“I was just beginning to explain our advanced technology to King Roan and what we can possibly receive in return from Azgeda.”  Clarke gestures toward the King.

“Excellent!” Kane exclaims, rounding the table to Clarke’s side. “What do you think? Is there an agreement we can come to?”

For a moment, there is silence as the King stares at the two leaders taking their seats besides Clarke, he drums his fingers lightly then nods. “It is pretty clear that your people are not adapt to this weather, not sure how it worked up there.” He looks upwards then back down to the young leader. “My people can teach yours how to make warm clothing to survive during the cold months. It’s something that the Ice Nation is particular good at.”

Before anyone responds, the three Skaikru leaders glance at one another with the smallest nods. Then Clarke rolls her head back to Roan. “I think we have reached an agreement.”

“And when will we carry out this agreement?”

Clarke sits back in her chair while Kane and her mother confer with each other. And for a second, her eyes meet the steely green eyes.

“How about week after next?” Kane proposes.

Roan flips his eyes to the Chancellor and he nods, “I’ll have my people ready with supplies to teach your people at Arkadia.”

“That is what we will plan on King Roan, we will have our people ready as well.”

The King slowly rises to his feet, “I will speak with my people now. I cannot guarantee that all of them will be pleased with this agreement but as their King, I will do my best to control their behavior.”

Kane pushes back from the table and stands, followed by Clarke and Abby. “I understand and we will do our best to settle any differences within Skaikru as well. And I hope we can unify our people with this agreement.”

“As do I, we will be in contact.” Roan moves towards the door and buttons his over coat. “It was a pleasure to meet with you Chancellor and Abby. And I will see you around, Wanheda.” He grins before exiting the room.

When the door clicks close, the Skaikru leaders plop back down in the wooden chairs. Kane rests his elbows on the table and spins his attention to Clarke. “Thank you for handling that, Clarke. I know you have a prior relationship with the King, it appears to have paid off positively.”

“You could say that.” Clarke shrugs and picks at skin on the side of her thumb.

By habit, Kane glances quickly at Abby then back at the young leader. “Your mother and I had a very good meeting with the Delphi clan. They agreed to exchange unique goods, originating in their home for the same knowledge we are sharing with the others.”

“We are leaving first thing in the morning, so we can prepare for all the clans coming. We got to get Raven prepared and this City of Light mess taken care of. Please be ready in the morning.” Abby interrupts with more urgency.

Clarke narrows her eyes, she thought her mom understood. “I’m not coming tomorrow, I’ll visit in a couple days, whenever the first Clan is scheduled to be there. But, I’m staying here in Polis.”

The older woman scuffs and rolls her eyes, turning away from her daughter in obvious annoyance. Tension filling the space is already making Kane feel uncomfortable in the seat between them. He leans back in his chair with a slight grimace on his face when Clarke leans across the table to glare directly at her mom.

“I thought I was clear about that mom. Especially after that run in with Jasper. I don’t feel safe in Arkadia nor do I feel part of the community anymore.”

Abby tilts her head back to Clarke with less annoyance crinkling in her eyes. “Marcus is back in power,” she says proudly, rubbing his shoulder as she glances at him. “And I could-“

“No,” Clarke cuts her off firmly. “I’m staying here in Polis. I feel safer here and as I said before, I will be more useful as an ambassador staying in the Capitol.”

Before she can even finish her sentence, Abby is pressing her lips together in a tight line and shaking her head. “Is that why you’re really staying Clarke?” A new fire of aggravation blazes in her mom’s eyes when they flicker her direction. “Or is it because of her?” The question is harsh and accusatory, fueling Clarke to curl her fingers against the hard-wooden chair.

“She has nothing to do with this.” Clarke hisses through her teeth.

“Then where have you been the past couple nights and mornings? When I have come by your room to find it empty, the bed untouched along with everything else in the same place.”

Kane is shifting in his chair, clearing his throat quietly and attempting to avert his eyes in every direction but at them.

“That is none of your business, mom.”

“It is when it is affecting your duties and responsibilities!” Abby yells through a clenched jaw so its muffled and she’s jamming her index finger against the wood.

“Abby…” Kane whispers, his hand coming in front of her to calm her down but he hastily retracts it when she sneers at it.

“Our duties have always come first! They are always first! I can perform the same duties that I have been from right here. And at least they will be appreciated unlike when I’m in Arkadia or near you.” Clarke snaps her head away and stares at the bare dark wall next to her.

“Clarke, I…” Her mom is interrupted by three loud knocks on the door. And a couple seconds later, a clan ambassador marches in.

 

* * *

 

“What do you think should be our next move, Fleimkepa? How should we carry these punishments out?” The Commander turns away from the thin curtains, that lead out to the balcony of her throne room. “The other clans keep demanding blood that we cannot give them.”

Lincoln bracelets his wrist behind his back and chews on the back of his tongue in deep thought.  “Imprisonment or banishment?”

The back corners of the Commander’s jaw tighten and her eyes veer sideways. “I think we could do better than that.”

“You cannot appear weak, Heda. The other clans are still unhappy with our new-found way.”

“Is there a suitable punishment in the form of labor, where these fools can pay back to the clans? Make them useful?”

An icy breeze slips through the sheer curtains, propelling an unexpected shiver down Lexa’s body and prompting her hairs to stand up on all ends. Moving away from the opening to her balcony, she cats another look at Lincoln, who stares at the floor in contemplation. It takes her strong will power to maintain her focus on her duties. And not think about how it would be to curl up with Clarke instead, shielding each other from the cold winter air.

“We could keep them imprisoned here and have them act as subjects to the ambassadors or generals. There will be no blood drawn and the clans could get use out of them.” Lincoln suggests after a minute of silence.

The Commander nods a couple of times to herself before lifting her eyes back to her Fleimkepa. “I will present that idea to the ambassadors tonight and will hopefully have that enacted by tomorrow morning.”

Several loud bangs at the door are immediately followed by the two large doors being shoved open and eight small bodies rushing through the door. Lexa smirks at the visibly worn out Octavia dragging her feet behind them. Her face is drooped, with a few beads of sweat clinging to her neck and remnants of melting snow in her hair and hanging to her jacket. The young kids chat and giggle as they drop down on the steps in front of the Commander’s throne.

“Did they work you hard today?” Lincoln asks somewhere between in a teasing and a sympathetic tone. The right corner of his lip is tipped up in the faintest of smirks.

He is only answered with narrowed brown eyes, so he steps forward to cup Octavia’s cheek and kisses her gently.

“Ew!”

“Ooooh!”

Come from the Natblidas. Lincoln drop his arm over Octavia’s shoulders and walks them over to the nosey groups of kids. “Now to get back to that topic of love is strength and not weakness.”

Lexa tears her face away from the group, trying not to smile hopefully at the words and give everything away. However, her attention is ripped to the soft footsteps approaching her.

“Lexa? Can I ask you something?”

The question prompts Lexa to turn around to a nervous, hesitant Aden. Rubbing his hands together and his eyes focused around Lexa’s boots.

“You never need to ask permission, Aden. Your questions are always welcomed.”

“Is Clarke special?” The young boy blurts out, as though those words have been burning on his tongue for days now.

The Commander is taken back by his question, her eyebrows scrunch together and her forehead wrinkles. “Clarke is an outstanding leader, who has led her people out of impossible situations. There is much you could learn from her.”

“Not that kind of special,” he rubs the back of his neck then glances back at Lincoln and Octavia sitting close with the other Nightbloods. “That kind of special. Special to you…”

A lump molds in Lexa’s throat and she swallows it away. She wasn’t expecting to be exposed to Aden at this moment. But she must follow her lead and support Lincoln’s current lessons. “Yes. Clarke is special to me.”

The Natblida straightens his posture and dips his head, to resonate his promise. “I will keep that vow forever, Heda. I wish for you to be happy again. We all wish for that.”

She can see the hope developing in his eyes, something she might have had too much of at one time. “Your duties as Heda will always come first, Aden. You mustn’t be selfish.”

 

* * *

 

The Commander lowers herself on her throne after the ambassadors have bowed and addressed her properly.  Outside, is still dark and gloomy as snowflakes continue to swirl in the air and the only light that illuminates is from the scattered candles throughout the room.

“A suitable punishment for the captive Skaikru members has been deliberated and determined. It will obey _blood must not have blood_ but will still bring justice that the fallen deserve.” She pauses purposefully, every ambassador’s ears have perked up and their eyes are locked with anticipation.

Except Clarke. When the Commander’s eyes fall on her, the Skaikru leader is sullen and her eyes less attentive. Lexa swallows the hard knob in her throat; feeling like she’s back in this very seat all those weeks ago, announcing the kill order on Skaikru. Clarke forgave her then, she was angry, but she understood.

With her signature tilt and turn of her chin, the Commander’s attention is on all the ambassadors. “When any clan leader is in Polis, be it an ambassador, a general, a King, you can use these prisoners to run errands, get you food, anything within reason. They will attend to you in meetings as you wish.”

Sly grins stretch across certain faces in the room. And out of the corner of her eye, Lexa can see Clarke shifting uncomfortably in her seat

“However, any form of physical punishment is unacceptable and will not be tolerated!”

Nearly all are accepting of that but the greed and ruthlessness run far too deep in Azgeda blood. “What if they disobey or refuse to listen?”

“Then report to me. I don’t expect there will be any issues, many of these prisoners came willingly and they knew that there would be punishment. This our chance to strengthen the bond with the 13th clan.”

“We will see how long that lasts.” Farho sneers under his breath, folding his arms over his chest.

Clarke’s hands are braced on each side of her chair, ready to spring up in aggravation. But, she is resisting. Her jaw set and her lips pursed in a tight line.

The Commander’s hand raises to her side, hindering Lincoln from marching down and intervening in the tensing room.   

“It will last.” Each word is pronounced slowly with rough authority. “You are expected to act accordingly as well. I doubt you would want to defy your King.”

The man’s lip shakes slightly as he holds back a snarl then leans back in his chair, staring ahead, defeated and exasperated.

“How long will this continue?” Uzac, the Yujleda ambassador, inquires.

 _A fact she hasn’t thought fully through, just yet._ Her jaw clicks once to the side while she runs through her brain. “However long that I see fit and depending on their behavior throughout. If there is any…resistance, the punishment will be dragged out longer.”

Silence lingers in the audience as the Commander waits for more comments or questions. After another wordless minute, she decides to close the quick meeting. “Their punishments will be announced to them in the morning now they we have come to an agreement. They will be brought here before the clans, join if you wish. For now, you are dismissed for the night.”

After most of the ambassadors have left, Clarke loiters by the doors talking to the last remaining ambassador. Her ears strain to listen but, they are talking too quietly for Lexa to hear. The Commander rises from her throne, glancing at the blonde once again, her chest tightening a notch because Clarke hasn’t looked at her once since the meeting ended.

“I think that went well, Heda.” Lincoln tilts his head down towards the smaller woman.

She nods once at first then confidently whispers back. “Sha.”

Her attention is then drawn to Kane and Abby hesitantly entering the throne room as the last ambassador exits.

“Abby and Marcus, please come in.” She clasps her hands behind her back and strides down the couple steps in front of her throne.

A ripple stutters through her heart when Clarke only meets her eyes for less than a second when strolling towards her. Too soon those captivating blue eyes are gone, staring at nothing behind her.

“We heard your decision on the punishment of the imprisoned Skaikru.” Kane’s lips are tight and curved down into a small frown.

“It is the best I could do, Chancellor.”

He nods mostly to himself and sighs. “I know, I don’t agree with it. But is better than the alternatives, I suppose.”

“I doubt it.” Abby mutters bitterly.

All eyes snap to her in that moment. The Commander’s eyes are narrowed with her brow furrowed, taken aback by the former leader. She had never been thrilled with the Commander but she was always respectful. Until…her brow relaxes and her eyes flicker to Clarke, standing with her arm folded across her chest and shaking her head slightly but remaining silent.

“Abby,” Kane breathes out soothingly, turning a shoulder towards her. “This is the best outcome there could have been. There had to be some form of punishment, we wanted that too. And honestly if we oversaw this decision back in Arkadia, would it have been any better?”

The woman’s eyes crinkle and her nose flares for a second. “We wouldn’t have degraded them!”

“And what we use to do was better? The physical punishment of the prisoners or anyone that got out of line? How we use to float…” The last word catches on his teeth when he is met with raised heads and low raging eyes. “I’m sorry,” he closes his eyes and breathes out heavily. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Clarke averts her eyes from everyone, staring at some point on the floor. Through the wrath engulfing crystalline eyes, Lexa spots the hurt crumpling down that fire. And her gut clenches even more than it was to begin with.

The older woman composes herself much faster than her daughter, she swallows and puts a hand on her hip. “I suppose you have a point, Marcus.”

In any other circumstance, the Commander would have growled at anyone questioning her decisions besides Clarke. However, this situation is more complex with Skaikru and their changing customs. And the fact that it is Clarke’s mother, she can’t help but feel like a foolish girl in love.

“When will you inform them of their punishments, Commander?” Abby asks in a much more respectful tone this time.

“Around first light, will you join us before your departure?”

Abby and Kane confer wordlessly with their eyes, before Abby gives a less than eager nod. “Will you be in attendance ambassador?” She asks her daughter with a condescending undertone.

“I think my attendance is required.” Clarke snaps.

“And I suppose you haven’t changed your mind about returning with us?”

“No.” Clarke mutters through grit teeth. “I told you I will be staying in Polis and will be in Arkadia soon.”

“So, you can stay in the Commander’s bed.” Her mom quips with a distasteful and belittling tone.

At that, Lexa stiffens and feels a hot dark blush streaming up her neck to her face. Clarke whips her head around to check their surroundings. “Mom!”

Kane mouths, “I’m sorry” to the Commander and gently tugs on Abby’s arm. “Come on, let’s get prepared for tomorrow, you two have had enough today.”

Now, only Lincoln, Clarke and Lexa remain in the silent room. Clarke still hasn’t raised her eyes to meet Lexa’s, her stare has stayed locked on the ground and her arms folder loosely over her chest.

“You’re dismissed, Lincoln.” The Commander says quietly over her shoulder. “I’ll need your presence early tomorrow. Your Niron did great with the Natblidas today, you two make a strong team.”

Lincoln dips his head in the slightest of bows and under the compliment. “It is her that makes me stronger, Heda. I will see you at first light to consult before the announcement.” He shifts toward Clarke, “good night, Clarke.”

“Reshop, Lincoln.” Clarke’s lips flip up into a weak smile.

Once Lincoln crosses through the threshold, Clarke turns on her heels to exit. And she just barely peeks over her shoulder to check that Lexa follows.

The Commander takes four long strides to catch up to her lover but she still feels so far away. There is a wedge between them of unspoken words, words that Lexa can’t find in her throat right now. Words that should be spoken softly in the private sanctuary of her quarters without following guards behind them. _What if Clarke continues back to her own room and leaves her alone?_ Lexa sucks in a couple of even breaths through her nose to loosen the tightening developing in her chest.

Her eyes peer at Clarke when they both slow down in front of her chambers. With a subtle nod and swing of her head, the guards reposition several yards down the hallway after opening the doors for the two women.

“You’re upset.” Lexa’s voice quivers quietly once the doors thud close. This time, she is the one not looking up and chooses to stare at her feet instead. Afraid that she will see that same betrayal or hurt in those blue eyes. A look that has haunted her since she first saw it at the Mountain.

Clarke sighs heavily when she notices Lexa struggling to remove her shoulder piece with shaky hands. “I’m not upset.” She clarifies as she closes the short distance between them and unbuckles the strap near the Commander’s chest. “I was upset at first.” She continues, not meeting the green eyes down casted at her. “It was difficult to hear that people who I use to consider my own, would be treated almost as a slave.”

“I’m sorry.” Lexa whispers so quietly that Clarke almost misses it.

And Clarke can’t help but reflect on the day she held the knife to this woman’s throat. She raises her hand to cup her cheek, trying to erase the sadness out of her eyes. Immediately, Lexa’s eyes fall shut at the contact and she leans into the gloved hand against her.

“I know you did the best you could. You always have.” She pauses to allow those words to sink in and resonate with Lexa. The jaw muscles against her fingers begin to lose their tension, so she continues. “Those people in there deserve some level of punishment. And Kane was right, it’s better than what we would do on the Ark.”

Lexa loses herself in those softened ocean swirls and melting into each swipe of a thumb over her cheek. Nothing else needs to be said, their eyes have conveyed the rest. That this discussion and moment of tension is behind them for tonight.

“If you would like, I could send for a fire to be made for us. We could relax and warm up around it before we sleep.”

Clarke’s lips twirl into a smile, “I would like that. I’m going to grab a few things from my room then I’ll be back.”

The warm soothing hand drops from Lexa’s face. Before she leaves, Lexa speaks up again. This time its soft and hesitant. Its personal and nervous.

“If you want...” She must swallow some anxious balls bubbling in her throat. “We can have your belongings brought in here. I have plenty of space and that way we won’t be going back and forth.” With that little shrug at the end.

And there Clarke is again, beaming at the almighty Commander getting shifty and nervous. Those green eyes bouncing from hers to random spots around the room.

“I would love that as well. You can tell them to send for my belongings tomorrow.”

Lexa’s eyes light up and she can’t hide the grin breaking across her face at the agreement.

 

 


	14. That Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa trains Clarke then some more Nightblood interaction. However, Clarke starts to worry about something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry it has been so long. Life got really crazy. I'm back now and have more time to write. Thank you for sticking with me!

The snow blanketing the ground is not as white as yesterday, dirt is stomped into it near the primary walking areas.  Even without the snow fall, its dark and dreary outside, and colder than it was yesterday. However, that weather doesn’t stop Lexa from dragging Clarke out to a secluded courtyard to follow through on the agreement they made on the couch last night. The Commander is going to teach her how to fight. Properly.

Clarke gained some skills during those three months in exile, without a gun and mainly just her hands. It doesn’t surprise Lexa that there is power behind each blow. But, they are inconsistent and imprecise. Clear indication that she lacked formal training and picked these up by herself.

“Umph,” the Commander grunts when she deflects a jerky strike near her head.

“Sorry,” Clarke says half apologetically but with a half-smug smirk. “I’m not half bad, am I?”

The Commander catches her breath much quicker than Clarke. “You have impressive strength, Clarke. Strength that often takes years for warriors to build up.” Her voice softens when she steps into Clarke’s personal space, choosing her coaching words sensibly.  “Your form could use your improvement though.”

A small crinkle forms between Clarke’s eyebrows but she nods, accepting the critique she was anticipating.

Lexa’s hands extend toward her; however, she stops herself before she gets too close in public without permission. “May I show you?”

Again, Clarke nods.

Lexa drops her training stick onto the mixture of dirt and snow then moves behind Clarke. Her hands slide over Clarke’s elbows and lift her arms to raise Clarke’s stick. “You are using your elbow too much. That’s why you aren’t precise with your hits that often. And you could injure yourself. You want to use your shoulders more.” She covers the length of Clarke’s arms with hers and guides her shoulders back into a basic position.

“Hold it back like this.” She instructs as she hoists their arms up a couple of inches. “Then swing through like this” Lexa swings the stick in a slow short motion.

“And once you get accustomed to that.” Her hands release Clarke’s arms and ghost over her hips. “You can use your legs and hips more.”

Clarke cranes her head over her shoulder and wiggles her eyebrows. “I’ll do that, Commander.”

Usually, Lexa dislikes when Clarke uses her title when they are alone together. But the way she says it, low and husky in her throat and with a frisky suggestiveness that sparkles in her eyes. It bubbles pleasantly in her gut and for a few moments she enjoys her title.

“Then show me, Wanheda.” She playfully canters back and whisks her stick from the ground. The brown snow flings off the end when Lexa cockily swings the blunt wooden weapon at shoulder height.

Clarke squints at her mannerisms then reigns in Lexa recent instructions, raising her weapon up then powers through with her shoulders. The blow clearly catches the Commander off guard because her neck muscles clench and her boots slide through the snow to prevent a stumble. To take advantage of this, Clarke swings hastily to the other side that Lexa maneuvers to defend off. Her internal scrappiness starts seeping back in and Clarke pivots around the Commander’s leg and kicks her in the back of her knees that sends her tumbling in the wrong direction, right on top of Clarke

They land on the snow-covered ground with a crunch and a small thud. “I assume that move didn’t go as planned.” Lexa stares down at the woman beneath her, both struggling not to blush at their suggestive position.

Clarke strains to surge up and flip their positions. But, with barely any effort, the Commander pins her arms down. A mixture of shock and disappointment flicker in Clarke’s eyes as they skip up and down the muscular arms restraining her.

“That move usually works on you.” Clarke pouts.

“I’m training you to fight Clarke.”

When Clarke gives up on wiggling her arms, the Commander releases her hold and climbs back up on her feet. She extends her hand, a wordless invitation to help the other girl up.

Maybe they are standing a little too close, too intimately for the public eye. Mainly due to Lexa being overly cautiously, over paranoid. It doesn’t stop her from dusting off some snow on Clarke’s shoulders and on the tips of her hair.

Her hand snaps back when she spots tops of head coming up from the training rounds with trudges of feet through the snow and dirt. And with her sharp hearing, she can hear a disgruntled grumble from a recognizable throat.

Indra and Octavia are leading the small group of Natblidas, followed by Lincoln in the tow. It has been a couple of days since Clarke has been met with that upturn of a nose with disapproving hard dark eyes from the General. At this point, Octavia is unfazed by these interactions.

“Heda.” Indra nods her head respectfully but grunts a, “Wanheda.”

The distance grows between the two women as the Nightbloods line up behind the two warriors with Lincoln towering over them.

“Teaching Clarke how to fight like a warrior?” Lincoln penetrates the awkward silence.

“Sha,” the Commander grins at Clarke then turns to the small group. “She is doing very, I may have her join our Natblida training session next.”

Young eyes light up excitedly, glaringly eager to spend more time with the Sky Girl.

Lexa approaches her young Natblidas, walking past her two her warriors. “How did training go today, Lincoln?”

While Indra chooses to join her Heda, Octavia meets Clarke a few yards away. “How’s training going, Princess? Not as easy as it looks, is it?”

 _Princess_ doesn’t sound as condescending when it rolls off Octavia’s tongue, it sounds like a teasing friend. She puts her hands on her hips, her breathing finally slowing down. “I already had a few moves of my own, maybe I’ll show you sometime.”

Over the young warrior’s shoulder, she spots a hooded figure standing by a tree, watching. Enough light is seeping through the clouds for Clarke to be able to decipher the markings on Ontari’s face. Her throat feels thicker and it’s getting harder to breathe again. It’s taking her back to the night of the ceremony, when she caught Ontari watching her and Lexa. Fear and anxiety cripple down her spine and spread through her shoulders and arms.

“Clarke.” The loud click of Octavia’s tongue snaps her out of her anxious mind. “Are you okay?”

“Uh yeah,” Clarke stammers over her words then shakes her head to focus. “I’m fine.”

Octavia eyes her warily but before she can press further, the Grounders approach them. “Klark,” the Commander says, “the Natblidas are asking that you tell them more stories. Will you be willing to tell them one or two before their next lesson?”

The distraction makes Clarke smile, “I think I have one or two in mind.”

Before following the group, Clarke chances one more glance in that direction. And Ontari is gone. _Is that good or bad?_ She doesn’t have much time to think though, Octavia is studying her guardedly. So, she smiles to pretend that her lungs aren’t being constricted by her ribs.

 

* * *

 

“There were parts of the ship that had glass ceilings and windows, where you could lie on the floor and feel wrapped in the stars. Stars that seemed so much closer up there.” Clarke beams, almost in a day dream, while she sits on the steps below the Commander’s throne and rehashes memories from a different life. “The moon was right there.” She nods into nothingness. “You could make out the craters and mountains.”

Young eyes grow in amazement with each word. Most of them sit with their legs crossed and leaning forward, engrossed in details of a foreign life.

Lexa has been standing a foot or two behind them, observing their interactions and drinking in every word of Clarke’s story. Wanting to know everything there is to know about her. For a moment, her eyes flicker to Lincoln and Octavia, standing intimately close. She needs to follow his lead little by little because _love is not weakness._ It is _strength._

It’s been so long since she has shown any signs of affection or love in public or in front of anyone, intentionally. She sucks air deep into her lungs and closes the short distance between her and Clarke. Not wanting to startle her or make her uncomfortable, she places her hand on a tough but delicate shoulder.

“Once a meteor- “Clarke halts mid-sentence to find nervous, timid eyes, and immediately understands Lexa’s purpose. She reaches up and laces their fingers together. Meeting her half way.

This seems to be the only thing to distract the children gathered in front of them because all those pairs of eyes flash up to their joined hands. And Lexa can’t help her heart beating harder against her chest, out of internalized and irrational fear. Fear that quickly dissipates when her young Natblidas smile and nudge each other elatedly.

“Once a meteor.” Clarke starts again but is interrupt with a question being shouted from her little audience

“What’s a meteor?”

“It’s basically a giant rock.” Without letting go of Lexa’s hand, she gestures with an open arm. “They can be as small as this room or as big as a planet!”

That sets the children’s eyes to snap wide open. She loves blowing their minds with information and stories that she once took for granted. The grounders would stare at the mysterious sky, not knowing what’s out there or what it’s like. Dreaming of one day being there. And Clarke would stare down at the ground, wondering what it was like and what would be here. Now, she knows, she’s here and is no longer dreaming.

“This one meteor came so close to us that it shook our entire station, everything was falling on the ground and some people hid under tables. I didn’t hide, I saw this redish brown rock barreling above us with an orange and purple glaze trailing behind it. It just missed Earth too.”

“Did you see the meteor, Octavia?” Sitting in the back of the audience, Aden twists in her direction.

The warrior catches some words in her throat, probably at the missed experiences. “I didn’t see it, I was in my room with no windows. I felt it though, I remember the walls shaking around me and the bed. And some pictures fell. It was scary.” She toys awkwardly with the collar of her jacket and Lincoln tenderly places a hand on her lower back.

Lexa feels Clarke jump at the unexpected banging on the doors. A meeting was not scheduled for another two hours at least, she unlaces her fingers from Clarke’s.

“Good work today. You are dismissed for the remainder of the day.” She says to her students before calling to the guards to allow the visitors inside.

A small group of Yujleda leaders file through the door, two in lead and three bringing up the rear. Right in the middle is Bellamy. One of the front leaders sticks out his foot to trip him and another comes up to shove him forcefully to the ground. Papers fly everywhere as the leaders chuckle at their prisoner. Bellamy doesn’t dare glance up from the floor in humility.

The Commander catches Octavia’s eyes and cranes her head down at Clarke, silently asking her to whisk her love away from the uneasy situation. Octavia crouches down to Clarke’s level to whisper, “come on, let’s go back to one of our rooms to talk about Skaikru.”

Bellamy is on his knees, reorganizing the scattered papers when they walk past. The footsteps provoke him to tilt his head up, his eyes red and pleading. “O….” He begs.

It’s as if his plea get lost in the wind because his sister doesn’t even react with a tic of a muscle or a blink of an eye. Her head is up and forward. Clarke barely glimpses at him before exiting the room.

 

* * *

 

“What did I say about harming the prisoners?” The Commander barks, striding defiantly towards Yujleda.

“He merely tripped, Heda.” Uzac feigns innocence but there is an extra rumple in his wrinkly eyes. “Skaikru are as unstable on their feet as they are with their judgement and weapons.”

Papers rattle in Bellamy’s trembling hands when he finally stands. His eyes are glued shamefully to the documents in front of him, the lines creasing in his forehead and around his mouth.

The Commander dismisses his delayed remorse, reminding herself that he is rightfully paying his consequences. Too much blood shed because of him. Nearly shattering her collation, putting her and Clarke’s leadership at risk. And the thought of him hurting Clarke physically and emotionally claws back into her skin like a snake.

“What matters bring you into my presence before our scheduled meeting?” Her coat swishes behind her, turning her back on the former Sky leader and letting this incidence slide.

 

“What were you staring at earlier? Down in the courtyard. You looked worried. Or scared.” Octavia probes, ending the minutes of silence that had built up between them.

Clarke pushes off the side of their couch and lets her folded arms drop to her sides. It has been eating at her a bit since the celebration but now she feels it tearing up her gut and chest and working itself into her brain.

“That Ontari girl…”

“The Nightblood that use to be Ice Queen’s right hand or prodigy, right?”

Clarke’s lips turn down, “I saw her at the celebration for Skaikru, she was staring at me. Or Lexa. Or maybe both of us.” The words are running faster out of her mouth than they are running through her head. “Then I saw her again near the courtyard. Hiding.”

The younger girl keeps her arms bent across her chest, tapping against her biceps in thought. “What do you think she wants? What is she up to?”

“I don’t know.” Clarke throws her arms up, getting increasingly preoccupied. “I don’t know if it’s with me or Lexa. Maybe she is upset that I tried to kill Nia or that Lexa did. She’s always been after the throne.”

Octavia stands, tugging at the ends of her sleeves but doesn’t move from her spot. “All of that would make sense. Especially after what Lincoln has been teaching me about Natblidas and the legacy of the Commander.” She takes a moment to pause, then adds. “And maybe she knows about you and Lexa.”

Her eyebrows instantly hitch together. “How – “

“You and the Commander aren’t as subtle as you think.” Octavia cuts off her before she can even finish her word. And slightly rolls her eyes.

Clarke runs her fingers through her hair, worst-case scenarios are already swarming her mind. That girl is highly capable and her eyes have been on the Commander’s throne.

“Have you told Lexa?” The young warrior asks when Clarke fails to respond.

“No.” Clarke says definitively. “She’ll freak out. This was already a big step for her.”

She can’t allow Lexa to believe that _love is weakness_ again or that her love is somehow endangering and selfish.

“Was she with anyone? How about Roan?”

Clarke shakes her head. “She was by herself both times. I don’t think her and Roan have a good relationship since it seemed like Nia abandoned Roan for Ontari.”

“Why don’t we go find out then?”  Octavia offers.

“What?”

“Let’s track her down, see if she is doing anything suspicious. We won’t talk to her. But I think it’ll be a good idea if we can try to find out anything.”

“Okay but we can’t...”

“We won’t tell Lexa.” Octavia sighs in annoyance. “But I’m telling Lincoln, so he can keep his eye out for the both of you. It’s his job. And we can’t afford either of you to be dead.”

“Fine, let’s go then. We will start near the courtyard, since that’s where I saw her last.”

After Octavia questions Clarke if she is prepared with weapons, they depart silently down the hall. And Clarke glances at the throne room doors, not wanting to run into Lexa and be met with her questions. Even hearing her voice through the thick doors makes her stomach do summersaults. Especially hearing the curls of her tongue speaking Trigedasleng.

The elevator attendants secure the doors behind the two women and when the old machine begins its jerky decent, Clarke turns to the girl next to her.

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

Octavia blinks hard several times before her brows knit tightly together and her forehead wrinkles. “Why? He got what he deserved, he has brought it upon himself. Don’t tell me you feel sorry for him.”

Clarke struggles with words for a moment, staggered by a complete lack of sympathy for her brother. Forgiveness wasn’t expected though. Only a few seconds later, she finds the proper words.

“No of course not, I just assumed that it wouldn’t be easy for you to see him roughed up as a prisoner or servant or whatever you want to call this predicament.”

The elevator jolts and shakes when it hits the ground, interrupting their stream of conversation. A gust of wind whirls through them as soon as the attendants open the doors for them.

“Mochof.” Clarke acknowledges them politely before exiting after Octavia.

“Your- The Commander.” The sassy girl catches the words on her tongue. “The Commander is already going easy enough on him. He is lucky that he wasn’t killed in battle or brutally punished. He can manage a trip or two.”

They hang a left into the direction of the courtyard and slush through the remaining snow. Clarke agrees with Octavia, that Bellamy has gotten a deserved punishment. It is still difficult to observe the pain of someone that she use to consider a partner and a trusted ally.  If it weren’t for him, maybe she wouldn’t have gotten shot. Their alliance wouldn’t have nearly been shattered. Excessive blood shed could have been avoided. And Lexa’s life and command would not have been questioned and threatened repeatedly.

The recollection crawls from her shoulders and balls at her fists. A flash of her punching Bellamy comes to the front of her mind. _Maybe she could right now._

“Princess.” Octavia repeats louder and it actually resonates in Clarke’s brain this time.

And when Clarke finally looks at her, she continues. “Where is it that you saw her last?”

Clarke points at the thick bare tree at the very edge of the courtyard, where she had seen the Ice Nation girl just over Octavia’s shoulder.

“There is still snow on the ground, maybe we can track a trail.” Octavia says, moving swiftly to the spot, staring intently down at the snow.

“I doubt it.” Clarke sighs. “The snow isn’t as hard or thick as it was before. Her footprints would have melted together by now probably.” She stares at the spot that her and Lexa trained only hours ago, unable to distinguish definitive footprints from them.

Her point goes unheard or is completely disregarded because Octavia is searching around the tree trunk, glancing up in a few directions.

“You didn’t see where she went?”

“No. I looked away for a second and then she was gone. I don’t know how long she was there for. I’m assuming she went away from the tower though.”

Octavia nods in response this time, staring in the general direction away from the tower and the main grounds around it.

“I didn’t see her or anyone pass through the training grounds. Lincoln or one of the Natblidas would have said something. That’s too many people to go unnoticed.”

As stealthy as Ontari might be, she wouldn’t have slipped past all of them. A hooded figure would have drawn alarming attention to them.

“Let’s stay south west mostly.”  Octavia suggests, already heading that way down the small hill on the other side of the training grounds. “Please don’t wander off. Stay close. If you see her or anything else suspicious, let me know. I don’t need Lexa to behead me if something happens to you.”

Clarke huffs, staying less than a foot behind her guide. “I’ll do my best. Anyway, Lexa wouldn’t kill you for that.”

She doesn’t need to see Octavia’s face to know she is rolling her eyes before Octavia flings a mocking scowl over her shoulder. “I think that’s the only thing she would kill me or anyone for at this point.”

Before Clarke can argue back, Octavia raises her hand up in the air. That compels Clarke to stop inaudibly so the warrior can scan the area. An area that seemed to be clear of anything except the filthy snow. But, her thorough guide checks behind the couple of big trees nearby.

When she retreats without a word, Clarke continues with their disagreement. “You know Lincoln would do the same for you. Kill me if anything were to happen to you.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Octavia shakes her head. “He would see this as me protecting you. Because he would do the same for you, for me, for Lexa. But, Lexa would see this as me putting you in danger and that someone took her niron away. Again.”

 _Take her niron away. Again._ Rings in her ears. Between the pain of Costia’s fate and the sheer panic over Clarke’s almost fatal fate, she knows Lexa could not endure that again. That it would break her this time. And Octavia might be right. If she weren’t so worried for Lexa’s safety also, she would get back to the safety of the tower.

She can’t though. If anything were to happen to Lexa, she wouldn’t be able to endure it either.

Twenty minutes pass and they are walking through crowds of citizens in the markets, everyone dressed too similar to tell them apart. They try to catch a glimpse of their faces as they pass by.  Octavia is met with a few more smiles, than Clarke is, probably because she is actively seen with the Nightbloods with Lincoln at her side. And she appears as an authentic Trikru warrior.

After weaving through the crowds, Clarke spots a dark wool hood wrapped around a head that is facing toward a merchant. Clarke stops, observing the individual more closely, appearing to be a similar height as her, wearing pitch-black pants with boots half way up her calves.

Octavia finally notices that Clarke has stopped and comes back to stand next to her and follows her eye line.

“Do you think that’s…?”

At that moment, the suspect turns around and clutches a newly bought item tight in their hand. The hood casts too many shadows on their facial features while they look down. But when they lift their head, the thick marks read like writing on the wall.

“That’s her.” Clarke faintly growls.

They march slowly towards her at first but when Octavia lifts her dark eyes and spots them pushing through the crowd. She runs.

The pair takes off after her, pushing and shoving through the crowds of people. Citizens yell and mumble at them in a mixture of languages. Clarke is too focused on trying to keep up with Octavia that she doesn’t have time to apologize.

Luckily, Octavia is faster and more athletic, that she trails close behind Ontari. But, when they meet a cross roads, a young boy collides with Octavia and she loses site of their target.

“Sorry.” The young boy mutters with his head hanging low.

“It’s okay.” Octavia lightly taps his back, spinning around to see if she can spot the lost runner.

Clarke catches up to her and sucks in deep breaths to fill her lungs, “do you see where she went?”

Attempting to stand as high as she can on the tips of her boots, looking over heads, Octavia sighs in frustration and shakes her head. “I lost her.”

Clarke spins in a half circle and runs her hand through her hair, not seeing her either. “She’s definitely up to something.”

Octavia nods. “She wouldn’t have taken off otherwise. I wish we had caught her, so we could figure this out.”

Possibilities rattle in her brain. _What if it was a bottle of poison or a toxin in her hand? Like how she wanted to do that to Nia to save Lexa before. Or a poisonous dart. They wouldn’t sell that so causally on the streets, would they? It could be nothing._

A touch to the elbow brings her out of her anxiety-filled over thinking. “We will figure this out, Clarke. I’ll let Lincoln know what’s going on. I was considering telling Indra but…”

“Don’t tell Indra.” Clarke groans. “I don’t need to give her another reason to hate me.”

Octavia laughs airily through her nose. “She doesn’t hate you. Well, not as much as she use to.” She comes more serious when Clarke doesn’t laugh along with her. “it’s just taken Indra while to adjust to Skaikru. She doesn’t hate you though, she’s just protective over Lexa.”

“Just please don’t tell, Indra. Not yet.”

“If things start to escalate, I’m telling her. It’s either that or tell Lexa. And that means Indra would find out anyway.”

She can already feel those dark eyes burning into her with Indra’s glare, that is tangled with an _I told you so._

“Fine.” Clarke accepts her defeat, knowing it’s better to deal with that glare than the alternative of a Lexa over-protective freak out that could cause her to retreat back to _love is weakness._

The pair retrace their path through the market, a silent agreement to return to the tower and to escape the freezing air.

 

* * *

 

 

The moon is already high in the sky when Lexa slinks through her chamber doors. Her limbs are heavy with the length of the day. It’s quiet in her room but she can hear the faint sound of Clarke’s steady breathing. She smiles at the small lump under the furs, facing away from her.

Her smile stretches to her ears when she opens her wardrobe and sees Clarke’s belongings packed in with hers. At some point, she may consider ordering a wardrobe just for Clarke, since her Commander gear takes up a significant amount of space. For now, this seems even more real and permanent. And that they aren’t sneaking into each other’s chambers at night, finding excuses to stay. This space is now her and Clarke’s.

After she drops a sleep shirt over her head, she realizes her braids are still in. She doesn’t want to call in a handmaiden and awake Clarke. So, she pinches a few strands of hair to unweave as she walks to her bathroom to stand in front of the mirror.

The knots loosen when she combs her fingers through her hair a couple of times then she returns to her bedroom. A comforting warmth spreads in her chest when she scoots under the covers and towards her lover. Not wanting to wake her, she gingerly slips an arm around her waist and presses against her back. She inhales Clarke’s familiar scent, that is prickled with pine undertones today.

Her eyes grow heavier under the smell and her breathing falls deeper in her chest and she’s nearly asleep when it happens. Clarke harshly jerks in her arms then shoots up with a loud gasp and a wail.

“Clarke.” Lexa shoves herself up with her elbows.

And Clarke turns to her with wild eyes with tears clinging to the corners. “Lexa?” Her voice roughly shakes in disbelief.

It nearly breaks Lexa’s heart. “It’s okay. It was only a nightmare.”

Clarke barely nods, her lip quivering and reaching out for Lexa’s face, tracing her cheek bones and jawline with two fingers. Then she leans into her. It constricts Lexa’s throat, she rubs her back soothingly.

“Do you want to talk about it, Hodnes?”

Clarke shakes her head against her and scoots closer. Though she understands Clarke’s unwillingness to talk about it, it still activates a sinking in her gut. It’s selfish and it shouldn’t cause her to worry but Lexa can’t help to think if Clarke is having nightmares about her leaving her at Mount Weather.

Some of her anxiety is relived when Clarke inclines more weight on to her until Lexa gets the hint to lie back down. Clarke curls into her side, nuzzling her head into her chest, seeking her heart beat out with her ear. Lexa’s fingers trail up Clarke’s spine and through the back of her hair. She has to bend her head upward to place a kiss on Clarke’s head.

It’s almost as if Clarke is attempting to comfort her because her hand slips below the hem of her top and rubs soothing circles along her belly. And when her hand lightly brushes over her ribs, Lexa breaks out in goose bumps that read like brail. Lexa’s heart beat relaxes and warms as Clarke simply wraps an around her stomach and hugs her close, maintaining the small skin to skin contact.

“I love you.” Clarke hums the words into her heart with unknown emotion racking behind them.

“I love you, too.” Lexa breathes out, thankful that Clarke is curled safely in her arms.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Translations: (if I made any mistakes please let me know!)
> 
> jus nou drien jus daun: blood must not have blood  
> Laik yu able kom sis em au: are you able to help her?  
> sha, heda: yes, commander  
> Mochof: thank you  
> Ai hod yu in seintaim, Leksa: I love you too, Lexa  
> Reshop, Heda: goodnight, commander


End file.
